


You Found Me

by Pawesome Kat (GhostsThough)



Category: Fairly OddParents
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M, Work Up For Adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostsThough/pseuds/Pawesome%20Kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When I first attended the thirty-week class that guaranteed to make fairies like me into the ideal fairy godparent, I never expected it would lead to this confusion, discrimination, a blonde ex-girlfriend who spends more time worrying over others problems than her own, and falling in love...with HIM. Foop x Poof, POOF's POV, Future Fic., Slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Artificial Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you _Simlead_ and _Lady Mayflower_ for the beta!

It was one thing to learn how to grant wishes, but being a full-fledged godparent is a whole different thing. Yeah, I grew up with my godbrother Timmy, but he outgrew my parents when he turned sixteen. He's seventy-six now; last I heard, he's spending the rest of his days in a nursing home. But that's just it - I've always been the godbrother, never the god  _parent_. I needed actual experience, so I signed up for a class I saw in a flyer that a man was handing out, outside Fairy World Market. In the flyer, it promised in thirty weeks to make you the "ideal" Fairy Godparent. It was kind of like the Fairy Academy, but it took a little more time teaching you the rules about magic and stuff like that instead of throwing you into a crash-course.

Well, that was what I told myself, at least.

After the first lesson, I soon learned this wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. Kids are complicated; not every godchild would be as fun or easy to please as Timmy was. And through the four hour course, I had come to feel both happy and irritated. Happiness came when I was taught that we could grant anything that a child wished for unless itviolated _'Da Rules.'_ The irritation came from the circumstances, where we'd only be assigned to an abused or unhappy child. It was sad, knowing we were just tools used to shape a childhood full of fake happiness, and the only reason that we exist is because there are bad parents that don't do their jobs. Poor kids…I'd never abandon a child like they do.

Before I could continue mulling over things, a piercing female's voice broke me away from my thoughts. Blinking, I returned to reality, realizing that said voice was the teacher speaking from the front of the classroom.

"Today each of you will be given a doll." I ran my hands over my drooping lids; already, paying attention was a struggle. Yawning into the corner of my elbow, I cradled my head into the palm of my hand as I glanced over the teacher at the front of the classroom. Thinking that it wasn't important, I tuned out the rest of what she had to say into white noise. I could only describe her look as something similar to a pixie. Put the two boring beings together, you wouldn't even be able to tell the two apart. She had the same pressed gray suit, hair pulled up into a tight bun, even the look on her face screamed "boring and indifferent." My only saving grace was her voice that actually held the ability to change octaves instead of the monotone voices pixies had.

"-Each doll has a recording device inside of it that will request a wish. Your responsibility is to grant them." A collective of excited murmurs buzzed throughout the classroom, but I didn't join in, too busy panicking. Oh man, does that mean I have to—

"There will be no actual wish granting however, mostly because the majority of you do not have wands yet." I rubbed my temples, ignoring the sounds of disappointment others made, and resisted face-planting into my desk. The  _"no actual wish granting"_  part of her introduction to the lesson just saved me from the embarrassment of having to pull out my rattle. "It is your job to make sure each wish follows the rules." Is she kidding me? I don't care how good your memory is, nobody actually knows all of the rules. Most fairies just waited until their wands went  _"pbhlt"_ , and then got rid of the problem later. "With that said, on this worksheet," she held a piece of paper up that was double-sided with ten questions on each side, ""you will write 'yes' or 'no' and explain your answer on a separate piece of notebook paper. Please hand this paper and your explanations, paper-clipped together, in by the end of the four-hour work period."

The teacher held her wand up, and almost mechanically the greater part of the classroom straightened up in anticipation. I adjusted my posture half as heartedly as our teacher said, " _Begin_." With a flash of white that nearly blinded me from the brightness, I found as the spots over my eyes cleared that an  _ugly,_ teeth-bitten and dirty toy doll was now seated on my desk, with the worksheet and leaflet paper beside it.  _'Do I really have to do this?'_  I frowned as I picked up my pencil and, with frustration, began. But before I could turn on the lifeless doll from the button on its stomach, voices grasped my attention.

_"I wish I had a pony! I want a dolly! Turn my teacher into a frog! I wish I were a fairy princess! I want a diamond tiara! Make me pretty! Fix my grades! I wish Billy loved me! I wish I had a unicorn! I wish-"_

" _Gah!_  How do you silence this infernal contraption?! I will banish you to the farthest reaches of space, you cacophonous sack of bolts and wires!" No one seemed to notice the man in the back row until now from how surprised everyone seemed. They all rotated in their seats to look at who had spoken towards the back of the classroom. My eyes only traveled; I didn't want the other to know I was looking. Foop, my anti-fairy counterpart, had his wand out, ready and aimed to fire at the hideously dented head of his doll that was spewing out wishes in an unusually fast manner. It was clear that it was malfunctioning, but it seemed he was fixed on shutting it up from the way-

' _BOOM!'_  Well, that fixed the problem…I guess. I blinked, eyes following the trails of blue sparks that spewed out from the smoke that surrounded him. Once it cleared, I could see Foop, smirking in satisfaction at the recently demolished doll, which was now without a head.

Our teacher looked up from her desk at the sound, to narrow her dark eyes at the disrupting student angrily, "Mr. Foop?"

Foop looked to the teacher, eyes narrowed, but in a split second it seemed all the rage from earlier drained out of eyes went wide and he backed away from the broken doll. Scrunching my eyebrows together, I broke away from what was on my mind to hear a student in front of him coughing as he had inhaled some of the smoke from the explosion.  _Yuck._

"Ah man!" The student waved his hand around, plugging his nose as he stared up at Foop from a row ahead. Foop, still clutching the beheaded doll, was now frowning, looking torn. "Dude, you just made your godchild's head explode!" Approvals were made in hushed voices, as the majority of the class began joining in on the comments.

Me…well, I didn't join in. I just began to giggle. Hey, I was the son of  _those_ type of parents, that were always getting into weird (well, actually,  _weirder_ ) situations like these. I couldn't pass up this moment. Turning around in my seat, face beet red and tears collecting at the corners of my eyes, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. Who would have thought, of all things  _that_ wouldhappen?  _'Oh man, do I wish I had that on camera!'_

I didn't take notice of the room becoming quieter, being filled only with my chuckling.

After a moment I stopped to wipe a tear from my eye to ask, "What's the matter, buddy?" I grinned slyly, "last resort to shutting up a godchild: head explosion?" I clicked my tongue, leaning back onto the hind legs of my wooden chair.

"I am  _not_  your buddy," he spat out, "and what about you? You can't even turn yours on!" I felt my face flush red with irritation at the reply. Was he saying I was stupid or something? If so, he was jumping to conclusions! I didn't have time to turn my doll on because  _he_  had to make his doll's head explode and all that, thus disrupting me from my  _own_  work (even though that distraction made my day).

I opened and closed my mouth in failed efforts to retort to what he said. Having a go at one that floated to the front of my scrambled thoughts, I spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well let's look to the bright side, you actually  _had_  someone willing to talk to you." The legs of the chair I was in came out from beneath me, knocking me backwards. I yelped, falling onto the ground painfully, and nearly crushing my wings under the sudden upturn. Instead, my tailbone took the brunt of the force. However, once the pain finally settled to a faint tingle, I slowly got up. All my intentions were to return the favor, but before I could, I had moved in time to see the teacher stand from her desk. She smacked her ruler onto the surface of the stained mahogany, and the result was a thunderous clap that had me freezing.

Lips pursed and cheeks red, our teacher was the splitting image of the devil in that moment, "Mr. Foop and Poof!" She yelled, and we quickly stood at attention of our names being called. I gulped as her narrowed eyes landed on me for a moment before traveling to Foop, who visibly stiffened under her stare. "How would you two like a trip to the dean's office?" My eyes widened as I felt the blood rush from my head at the threat. No, if I was sent there, then my parents would be notified. It was like an elementary school punishment all over again. I had promised that I would behave and not get into trouble after my parents discovered Foop was taking these classes as well. Foop and I got in trouble all of the time in high school. Right before graduation, there was a threat of suspension from the principal. It was then, after seeing their disappointment in me that I had promised to be good.

But my clean record here was about to be put to an end, thanks to  _him_. "No…Ms. Dresser, I-I can't go there!"

Ignoring my outburst, Foop crossed his arms, his body language showing off his irritation. He stared back at our scowling teacher. "This litt—I mean,  _Poof_  and I are sorry for our unruly behavior and for disrupting the class. It will not happen again." I looked between the two, shocked at what I had just heard. Was I hearing things? Was this even the same  _Foop_? He still had the same black mustache, goatee, and spikey hair that ended at his chin. Plus the suit—well, actually, that was a new one for me, too.

Blinking owlishly, I watched as the teacher sat back down in her seat, unsuspecting of the possible impostor posing as my counterpart. "Fine," she muttered with a sigh, "I'll overlook this for now since both of you  _have_ been good so far, unlike in the past." I flinched at her words. She eyed us critically. "But if this happens again, the trip to the dean's office  _will_  happen. I'm not about to deal with any bad behavior, as you have so wonderfully displayed today, happening in my classroom." Facing the other students, she nodded, "Get back to work." And that was the end of it.

I set my chair back up, glancing up at Foop before I sat down. He cast me a quick glare before reaching over and grabbing someone else's doll with a snarl. The fairy he stole from only protested for a moment, but after a whispered threat, they quieted down just as quickly.

My body went lax with relief. So I guess that was the real Foop after all. Breathing slowly to gradually ease my racing nerves, I got to work. I definitely did not need another reason to be sent to the Dean's office on top of a fight with Foop.

* * *

' _Two right out of twenty…'_  I felt my eye twitch as I eyed the worksheet we had just finished. Near the end of the four-hour class, early finishers had the privilege to get their papers graded instead of waiting until the next day. I was among the fairies that got the piece over and done within a short time, and the result was: _'I got a 27…'_  Back in high school, I was used to getting 50s and 60s, but never something  _this_ low. It was humiliating to note how much better others were than me in school. Academics and all that…we just never worked together well. And I'll admit to some doubt that filled me at my choices to spend over seven hundred dollars on Fairy Economics…I just hope I don't fail. My dream to follow in my parents' footsteps was still there, but the goal seemed much farther to reach now, all because I chose not to go to the Fairy Academy.

I stared back down at my paper with a frown before crumpling it up.  _'That number in red ink is mocking me-!'_

Unexpectedly, a slight push to my shoulder had me stumbling forward with a surprised yelp. Catching myself on the doorframe leading outside the small building, I regained my footing before I fell onto my face from the lack of balance. Looking around for whoever shoved me, I glared as I took notice of the neatly shined shoes and black trousers next to me. Pivoting my head upwards, I caught sight of the smug smirk on Foop's face as he passed through the courtyard leading out into Fairy World, and all the while waving his worksheet around like a flag. On it, he happily displayed his 95 written in red ink at the top with a smiley face. He even received the teacher's comment of  _'Good Job!'_  written off to the side – whereas, I got a frown face and a  _'try harder'_  from her.

Fuming, I pointed daggers at him as he laughed, sharp canines glinting in the sun, making the action even more feral looking, and with a flap of his black batwings, he took off into the sky. I watched him until passing clouds obscured him from view.

Huffing, I stuffed my hands into my pockets, wrinkled paper and all, to finally pass through the doorway of the courtyard to the outside.

The buzz of the city filled my ears in a familiar sound, along with the happy chatter of pedestrians that populated the streets. The city was overall a cheerful place, and it was rare for me to hear of any fights. I guess it was a trait to the world I lived in that made me grateful for such moods, as the feeling was nice.

Jogging down the path to my apartment located in the suburbs of the city, I passed many fairies that stopped and stared at me in admiration. I guess I understood why. I was a celebrity in their eyes because of the fact that I was the first baby born after thousands of years. The attention from when I was younger has since then died down, which I am grateful for. I don't have to worry about hiding from the public because I am not stopped every five seconds to sign autographs or take pictures for a local Fairy World newspaper.

When I was younger, it was scary to see crowds of fairies surrounding me, taking pictures and with cameras flashes leaving me blinded. The fear only grew worse as I got older. I then went into hiding, which just involved me staying at Timmy's house, being babysat by my godbrother. In the time of my absence, Jorgen had strictly informed the paparazzi to ask permission for a picture instead of doing it without my approval. I don't know how I felt about being confronted by several people that were desperate for a picture of 'their idol', but I guess it was better than being blinded from cameras every way I turned.

Walking through the streets that led to my apartment, I glanced back to make sure I wasn't being followed. Seeing no one, I continued on normally, without fear that some fan was knocking at my door or spreading the word of where I lived to other supporters. I had that happen when I moved into my first home. One slip up and the next morning I had hundreds of fans waiting at my doorstep…I still had nightmares of that day. I barely made it out with all my clothing on thanks to those raging hormonal fangirls, who were more obsessed over my looks than the actual reason I became a celebrity in the first place. I don't want to sound like I don't like how I look, but…well, let's just say pictures taken for newspapers and magazines lie. I wasn't some freckle-free teen with perfect, wavy hair and unhealthily skinny. I had freckles, my hair was mostly left without brushing, and I was…uh, plushy. I always blame it on the baby fat that never went away, but whatever.

Reaching into my pocket, I stepped up to the graffiti-painted door that led into my house. I paused; in searching for my key, I saw a note taped to my door inside a white envelope. Groaning, I dreaded the fact that it may be a fan who had found my home. I was not looking forward to moving places a second time! Last time, I had to ask money from Mom and Dad. I can't keep on borrowing money from them, and without a job, I couldn't afford it on my own. (I spent most of what I had saved up on that class…)

Finally digging out my key, I pushed it into the slot, and opened the door while grabbing the note. Let's see what confession it is this time.

Tossing my graded paper into the trash bin in the kitchen, I stepped around the various wet spots on my white rug in the living room; they were mostly food spill stains, and from past residents, but a few of the fresh ones were my doing.

I opened the envelope as I plopped myself down on the small blue sofa in the middle of the room, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. Inside was a piece of white leaflet paper with writing written in an orange ink. Squinting, I read the note, recognizing who it was from just by looking at the handwriting.

" _Hey Poof,_

 _I know you're busy with classes, but I was wondering if you could make time in the morning tomorrow to come meet me at Fairies Dust Café?_   _I know you have to be at the school by ten, so meet me at eight, okay?_

_If you can't make it, that's okay!_

_With love,_

_Goldie Goldenglow."_

Goldie and I had dated throughout elementary, middle and high school. Everyone was convinced we were " _meant to be together_ " (as Mom put it), but by high school, something had changed. It was more like we were best friends than actual lovers. We both talked about it, and we both felt the same way. For me, I felt something wasn't right. I can't explain it; she just…wasn't that right piece for my heart. So the afternoon of our graduation, we broke up. We acted as we normally did as best friends, but without the label of "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" on our backs. My parents questioned our change in relationship status once they found out; I had told them I didn't like her like that. I mean sure, I would always think Goldie was beautiful, with her long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the adorable dusting of freckles across her cheekbones, but I never wanted to be romantic with her. Throughout our years of dating, we had never gotten passed pecks on the lips. Goldie never pushed it either. There was no confirmation from either of us saying,  _"I don't want to do that,"_  we just both chose not to. It wasn't one-sided at all; just…neither of us wanted to take it any further.

Now, as friends, we met up at our favorite café to catch up after being apart. We mostly talked about jobs, or my lacking of one. Goldie had plenty of requests to become a Fairy Godparent, but she rejected them all. When I asked her about, she just said "I'm waitin' fer my partner ta come along." I didn't ask for her to explain. I guess I could see where she was coming from. Most Godparents waited until they settled down; if you married afterwards, one of them would have to give up their Godchild to be with their partner. So I could see why she would be holding off on becoming a Fairy Godparent.

Instead, she got a job waitressing at Planet Fairy World. The wage was decent, and she got plenty of attention from the male customers, much to my disgust. I may not be her boyfriend, but she's still my friend. The idea of anyone trying to tempt her into going out with them causes my protective side for her to flare up; I just don't want her to end up hurt.

I smiled. At least I can see her tomorrow before another stressful four-hour lesson. Maybe talking to her would help ease my anxiety.

* * *

I fiddled with the lining of the tablecloth, eyes focused on my lap, while waiting for Goldie to show up. I felt a little nervous from the amount of stares I was getting from others at surrounding tables, and made sure to keep my mind distracted before my friend arrived. After about a minute, the sound of the chair across from me being pushed backwards woke me from my thoughts, and I glanced up to see - I sighed in relief -  _Goldie_. Said fairy (the correct label would be a flower fairy, but Goldie insisted on being identified as  _just_  a fairy) smiled in greeting to me, which I returned with a nod of my head. Just like always, we both picked up our menus and scanned through the drinks, even though we came here often, and always ordered the same thing:

"Masala chai, please," Goldie ordered, handing the waitress who just approached us her menu.

"Hot chocolate with cream." Hearing my stomach growl, I realized I had forgotten to eat something this morning. Smiling sheepishly, I handed my menu to the lady while adding, "And a dark chocolate brownie, please."

The waitress nodded, holding our menus to her chest. She obviously got the wrong idea about us being a couple, with the way she smirked at Goldie and the playful wink she sent towards me. I just shook my head as the fairy left, then quickly looked up and saw Goldie looking just as annoyed as I was.

"I'll never git over people givin' us them looks," she said with furrowed eyebrows. I nodded in agreement.

After putting the mistake behind us, we eased into conversation, mostly on the topic about magic, which concluded with Goldie asking when I would be receiving my adult wand as she had a couple of months ago. I sighed at that, brushing my fingers through knots in my lavender hair nervously with a chuckle. I had no idea; I'd have to wait until my class got access to the wand shops - and that's if I didn't flunk out first. Before I could answer her, though, our waitress returned with a smile. She put down our drinks and our bill, then walked off with a final, "Have a nice day!" At least she didn't give us any more weird looks…not to our faces, at least. I saw her head over to a couple of fairies that were away from the tables, smoking cigarettes. She looked over at us as she talked to them silently. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but decided after a few seconds that it didn't matter, and I dropped my frustration and turned my eyes back to my friend.

Following the arrival of our beverages and my 'breakfast', we lapsed into silence. Goldie was preparing her tea while I bit into my brownie. (I tried to take a sip of my hot chocolate, but it was  _scolding_ hot and I burned my tongue on it. Fast health regeneration always was helpful in these situations, but it didn't make the pain any better.)

"I ran inta Foop the other day."

Out of all of the things she could've brought up, it had to be Foop. I tried not to drift off into another world as she spoke but it was when the direction of her conversation began to focus on me that I came back to reality.

"Ya know Poof," Goldie began, taking a slow sip of her tea. Her face turned sour, and she dropped her tea packet back into the cup to let it sit longer. "Ah don't understand you 'an' Foop's relationship."

"Hm?" I asked as I took a gulp of my drink, only to lick the white cream from my upper lip to eye her curiously.  _'What was she talking about?'_

She shrugged as she picked at the armrest of the wicker chair absent-mindedly, blue eyes staring directly back at me, "You two 'r always at each other's necks, but I don' get it. Ain' no reason fer you two ta act like ya hate each other so much." She waved her hand around. "'Course, ah knows how most fairies are towards their opposites, but you've knowed him yer whole life. I'd think that after all that time, you'd grow ta like 'im even a lil'. It just blows my mind how you two've kept up yer attitudes fer so long."

I scratched my temple, "Okay, one, where is this going? And two, why are you  _just_  bringing it up? Because, just like you said, we are _always_  fighting. I dunno where you got the crazy idea of us being friends."

"Yeah, y'all  _argue_ all the time," she pointed out in argument, "but ya never really  _fight_. Bickerin' don' mean ya  _really_  hate each other." She chuckled at my confusion and started beaming for no reason, as if she knew something I didn't. "But ah been watchin' you two, and I don't think ya hate each other at all."

This part intrigued me, and with new energy, I leaned forward with a tilt of my head to look at her curiously. "I don't understand. How can our  _'attitudes'_  be different from our  _'actions'_?" I said, finger quoting.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead in irritation at my obliviousness. "Look, from mah point of view, when you two argue, ya always act irritated. But actually  _watchin'_ y'all, it looks like yer always tryin' ta get close. But when ya get there, y'all either start fightin' 'r get all jumpy 'cause ya touched hands 'r somethin'." She scratched her chin with a caustic smirk. "If ya bothered arrivin' at health class in high skoo, you'd know more 'bout  _body language_."

"Okay, the year you guys were doin' topics on that, I heard we'd be covering the whole birds and the beegees thing. I still have nightmares from getting the talk from my parents." I shivered in memory, especially with my Dad's puppets that were meant to resemble him and Mom.

She giggled at my reply. "Well, anyway, ah was bein' serious when ah said that about you an' Foop." I groaned in reply, placing a hand on my forehead. I earned weird looks from others at different tables; I reddened, and immediately stopped. Goldie didn't pay any attention to my embarrassment. "Ah guess….ah'm  _curious_ t'know what's happenin' between you two."

I grunted. "Whatever's happening between us is nothing, Goldie." I swallowed down the rest of my hot chocolate, and wiped the milk mustache off my lip with the back of my hand. "Plus, why the hell are you bringing this up all of sudden?"

She didn't reply for a moment, instead circling her index finger into a wrinkle in the table cloth. Looking lost in the thought, she said, "Oh, it was when ah met up with Foop an' talked t'him." That part grabbed my attention, not exactly because she met up with Foop, but the way she said it. She sounded… suggestive? My cheeks once more went red, and I shook my head to clear my mind of _those_  types of thoughts. Goldie just giggled, but I didn't know what it was for.

"Umm…Goldie, I don't really…" I said, rubbing the back of my head.

"Oh dear, ah just remembered somethin'!" She changed subject, ignoring me once more. Picking up her wand from where it had rested on the table, she twirled it around as the star on the tip emanated a yellow glow. Not a second later, magazines appeared in her other hand's open palm, which she grasped with a frown. I did as well as she turned them towards me, fanning them all out to give me a short snippet of the image on the front pages. On the front of all of them…was me. "Ah foun' these here magazines aroun' town. Looks like those paparazzi fergot all 'bout that havin' ta ask yer permission fer pictures thing."

I took them from her, eyes wide. This was something I'll never get over. No matter how little I went outside, fairies had to make a big deal about it, with flashing headlines asking the reader,  _'What is Poof Going to Do Next?'_  with following gossip about my personal life that they knew little about, but acted as if they did with exaggerated stories, like ' _Will Goldie and Poof Get Together Again?'_  Not only were they bothering me, but my friends and family too. The fans obsessed with getting me and Goldie back together were the worst. For what I knew, they had formed a club, got a bunch of amateur pictures with their cell-phones, and stuck them on t-shirts and whatever else. I ducked my head a little; suspicious that it could be happening right now. Did my life have no such thing as privacy?

Goldie continued speaking after a moment of watching my reaction. "Ah gotta say though, Poof, yer lookin' fine in these pictures. Too bad it wasn't on yer terms."

"It's not me though, Goldie." I sighed, pushing the magazines away, as well as the remaining part of my brownie. I lost my appetite.

"Wal, yeah, but even if ya look on over all th' makeup an' —"

"Fairies are falling in love with images of me for all the wrong reasons!" I slammed my fists down onto my thighs, and dug my fingers into my black skinny jeans while clenching my teeth. I bowed my head. "Sometimes I wish I was never even born!"

"POOF! Don't ya evah say that again! Timmy-boy—"

"I know! He wished me into existence." I rubbed my forehead. "I  _meant to say_  that I wish I wasn't the first baby to be born after my dad." She reached her hand across the table, and I met her halfway as her thumb skimmed over my knuckles consolingly. It gave me the courage to continue on with what I was saying. "It's hard, you know, with all this celebrity stuff. I just wish sometimes I could be normal, and not be admired like an idol, but for who I am really am, Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma. I've been through ups and downs like everyone else. I had bad acne, I had trouble with school-" Goldie shot me a sharp look, so I coughed and corrected myself, "-I  _have_  trouble with school. Point is, I'm not perfect!"

Goldie nodded, agreeing. "Yer right Poof, jest like ah'm not as fine, 'r anyone else fer that matter." She laughed. "An' ah gotta say, that was  _purdy_  deep."

I swatted her arm, smiling. "Oh stop it."

She placed her other hand on top of mine, making a sandwich out of my hand. "Are ya feelin' better than ya were before?"

Looking off to the side for a moment, I felt my stress that had built up over these past few days coming away from my sagging shoulders. I sat up straightly while nodding. "Yeah… I think I do."


	2. Poof

I was five minutes late to class that morning. I was so lost in conversation with Goldie; I forgot to check the time. I glanced at my watch and saw it was already eight o'clock. I made my exit hastily, with rushed hugs and a side-tracked goodbye as I pulled out my rattle, and with a wave made it out of there. I lost another three minutes fumbling for my student ID card. (You can't get into the college without it; something about safety measures and keeping other supernatural out.) There was a moment I thought I left it at my apartment. Then it was another minute waiting for the magical barrier surrounding the building to separate to allow me through. By then, I knew the teacher had arrived inside the classroom and begun today's lesson. I could probably make it in still without her noticing. A student a few days ago had done it by poofing inside when her back was turned. I could probably do the same. I would be busted at the end of the term, when they checked the records and saw what time I signed in, but I could deal with it later. If it saved me from getting a lecture today, it was good enough for now.

Poofing my way outside the sealed doorway of the classroom, I mentally planned out what I would do. I could try getting into the classroom by poofing to a random place, but we didn't have assigned seats. The chances of me landing on someone's lap were high, and I couldn't be sure if my seat from yesterday was empty.

It was too bad this wasn't Earth. I could've always peeked in through the glass, if it had it, or opened the door slightly to see if the coast was clear. Fairies thought the idea of doors were pointless, so most of them were just paintings. If this building wasn't so old though, maybe they could've caught on to the trends and made the doors real.

I breathed slowly. Anxiety had my stomach in knots.  _'All I have to do is get in there, maybe around the first row, and try to sit down in an empty seat without her seeing.'_ I bit into the inside of my cheek.  _'Oh man, why does this plan sound so much better in my head?'_  I pressed my ear to the door, and heard the noise of chalk on the blackboard. Okay, so that means that Ms. Dresser must have her back to the class while writing stuff down on the board. I can do this.

Waving my wand, the view of the hallway changed in a cloud of pink, and I found myself facing the door from the inside not a second later. With that done, I spun around and flew forward, heading in the direction of an open seat I spotted in the third row.

 _'I can make it,'_  I thought, just as I was a few feet away,  _'I can—'_

"Mr. Poof!"

…And it all came crashing down. The word  _'busted'_  flashed in my mind as I halted mid-flight, and I was right next to the desk I had planned to sit at! I was so close to getting in here without her noticing. Glancing around the room, it seems that my entrance had riled up the class as they laughed and pointed. I glared. They are the reason I was caught!

"Mr. Poof…"

Turning back around to Ms. Dresser, I looked to the side guiltily. "I'm sorry….?" I trailed off. I didn't know if my apologies were still useful or not after yesterday.

Her eyebrow ticked as she deduced my silent question. "You're not forgiven. Not after my warning from the day before," she reminded with a frown. "And I am assuming you don't have a late pass?"

I sighed. "…Yes."

Ms. Dresser exhaled noisily out of annoyance as she pointed down to the door. " _Go_. I gave you a warning yesterday when you and Mr. Foop were disrupting my class. And look where we are now, Mr. Poof." As I began pulling out my raddle once more with slumped shoulders and a red face, she called out, "When you come in to class later, you better have an excuse." And to top it all off, she said, "You will be staying after class with me, so don't leave or there will be worse consequences." Her final sentence caused me to cringe. Looks like I'm getting that lecture after all.

I picked at the bottom of my purple sweatshirt as I went down the hallway. I eyed each room number I passed to make sure I didn't skip the Dean's office by accident. When I finally found it, I attempted to calm myself as I stood outside the threshold. It wasn't my first time meeting with him – I guess he was friends with my parents, kind of – but I hadn't seen him in years

I knocked, then poofed my way inside.

"Hello? Mr. Strangle?" Strangely, the room looked empty. I turned around to leave, but my face met with a hard chest that was covered in a lime green tank top. Backing away in surprise as I rubbed my abused nose, my eyes widened at the towering figure that swallowed me up in his shadow.  _'Jorgen Von Strangle…the toughest fairy in the universe…'_ The overhead lights in the room highlighted each curve on his tan face as sharp blue eyes stared down at me intensely. I felt like a midget in comparison.

It was weird to consider Jorgen as the dean of this school. I could never figure out how he got the job. I guess he had to step up as one of the fairy leaders, or decided he needed to keep a closer eye on the students.

"You are?" Jorgen spoke, looking down at me. The man did not have a light voice; even when he wasn't yelling; it was still loud and intimidating. I would hate to imagine what he calls  _'whispering.'_

"I-I'm…." I licked my lips, and wiped my sweaty hands on the front of my black skinny jeans. "I'm Poof, sir."

"Poof…" He tried my name on his tongue, and scrunched his monobrow together as if he was trying to remember something. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Uhm, my parents are Cosmo and Wanda, sir." I don't know how he got tied up with my parents and Timmy. Mom said he was a big bully, but they were still friends…somehow. It didn't make sense, but what did I know? All I knew from those days was a story Mom told me where I beat him up once for taking my binky.

It took a moment, but I saw a spark of recognition in his eyes as he grinned down at me. "Ah yes, I remember you. The little round baby that always said  _'poof, poof'_ all the time." I really hated to be reminded of how I used to talk before I began to actually speak English. Many years of school and speech therapy helped the issue, though I do have the occasional slip up, much to my (bad) luck – old habits die hard.

"Yeah…I wasn't very good at speaking before." I rubbed the back of my head, embarrassment causing my cheeks to redden.

As if he didn't hear me, Jorgen continued on with his journey through memory lane. "You look different." He gave me yet another once over. "Less round. Not so cute." I didn't know how to respond. It'd be kind of creepy if he thought I was still cute. Plus, what was he expecting? That I'd still be a baby after all these years?

"Well, I grew up," I said, watching as he looked me over one last time, committing my new look to memory.

He sighed and shuffled his way past me to his desk, to sit down in his black office chair. The surface of his desk was populated with papers situated in neat piles. He must've had an assistant around somewhere; no way Jorgen was  _that_ organized. At the front of his desk, at each top corner, was a picture frame. One was most likely a photo of his wife, the Tooth Fairy. The other could have been anything, but my guess it was a picture of their present godchild.

The whole room in general was white and nearly empty aside from the metal cabinets to the right. There must have been folders inside consisting of each student's profiles who were attending the college, as well as mine.  _'I can only imagine my records,'_  I thought with dread. A potted plant was situated on top of the cabinet, and inside a dead purple petunia lay amongst its shriveled-up leaves and petals. Figures,  _of course_  he would forget to water it.

The final object that stood out amongst the others in the room was a framed certificate on the wall. It was hidden in the shadows at the left corner of the office; if the light weren't shining off the glass, I never would've seen it back there. In my curiosity, I squinted to see it. I could only make out a few letters, "L.W.P," and a golden stamp showing a clock in the background of an image of a child and a fairy.

"What's the certificate for?" I asked.

He looked where I was pointing. Something flashed beneath his eyes upon seeing the parchment, but it was too quick for me to get a good look. By the time he looked back at me, it was gone. "An old project. None of your business."

It didn't answer exactly what I wanted to know. "What does  _'L.W.P'_  stand for?"

"Nothing." His short responses showed the finality of his words, telling me to stop asking him questions. Something was definitely wrong. That certificate held more value to him than what he was giving it credit for, but this wasn't the time to ask. Last thing I needed was to make Jorgen upset.

I nodded with an "Okay." I shifted my weight onto my left leg as I folded my arms across my chest. I was hoping to avoid the reason why I was here, but the constant nag seemed determined on being brought up. There was no way out; I confessed before Jorgen had to ask. "I was sent here because I was late to class."

"Why were you late?"

"Well… I lost track of time after I met up with Goldie Goldenglow at Fairy Dust Café."

"Is Goldie a girlfriend of yours?" His thick, black eyebrow rose at one end to resemble lifting a brow. His expressions didn't come off as well since the two were connected.

"More like an old friend." I avoided telling him that she was my ex-girlfriend.

"Hm." He smirked, but seemed to drop what he was thinking in exchange for a different topic. "What classes are you taking?"

I grasped the change in subject and answered with no hesitancy, "Fairy Economics."

"So you want to be a Fairy Godparent," he mused, a big grin on his lips. "Why aren't you at the Fairy Academy?"

"I learn best through textbooks than anything  _really_ hands-on…." It was a lie but Jorgen seemed to buy it.

"Ah! The Fairy Academy isn't for types like you – big brains and puny muscles. The Fairy Academy teaches through pain! Hard training, working your muscles! Teaching through pain and discipline! And pain!"

I nodded. "Yeah, I guess." I felt like choosing Fairy Economics over Fairy Academy was the best choice I had ever made in my life right now. "Um…I was wondering if I could get—"

He cut me off, like he didn't even hear me. "I better get you to class." Abruptly, his big wand was in his hands. The star's tip was almost touching my nose, and the shrill whine it gave off filled my ears, scrambling my thoughts.  _'Oh crap, is he—No, no, I can't be killed—Oh fuck! I'm too young to die!'_  I dived down to the ground while covering my head, whimpering.  _'I'll never be late again!'_

Suddenly, I heard a popping noise, but pain didn't come. Confused,I looked up just as something light landed on top of my head. Swallowing thickly, I shakily reached up, and was surprised when I felt paper.

"Here's your note." I heard Jorgen say as I got up on wobbly knees, staring owlishly down at the excuse in my hand.  _That_  was what he was doing? Poofing me a note for class? Does he do that to  _everybody?_  I felt light-headed, and I think I just had a heart attack.  _'But at least he wasn't planning on hurting me or something for punishment.'_  I breathed easier at knowing I was still whole.

I took the paper and placed it inside my pocket after scanning what was written. It said:  _"Please excuse Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma for being late to class. He had a tardy arrival to school. ~Jorgen Von Strangle."_ It was vague, nothing like the passes I got in high school, but Ms. Dresser couldn't argue Jorgen's signature. I nodded my head in approval as I looked back towards him with a small grin.

"Thanks, sir."

"Don't call me  _'sir'_. Call me Jorgen. We are not strangers," he reminded me, and left no misunderstanding in his hinting of our past together. I nodded my head again with a sound of agreement.

Turning around to the door, I looked over my shoulder with a wave. "Have a good day, Jorgen." With a quick twirl of my rattle, I disappeared in a pink cloud of smoke.

* * *

When I reentered the classroom, Ms. Dresser had been explaining that we would finally be getting our permits to get an adult wand. I gave her the note from Jorgen. All I got was a nod in response and her throwing it in the garbage. Jeez, that was pointless.

Taking that as permission to go, I went back to the seat from earlier to sit down. Students who weren't paying attention to her watched me in awe as I sat. I guess it was surprising that I was only a little traumatized from my visit with Jorgen. I ignored the few that were trying to get my attention, most likely trying to ask me what it was like going to Jorgen's office.

"I made a list of recommended places to buy a wand. Please be sure to get one before next week. I plan to go over magic with everyone then." My eyes drifted off from the front as she poofed out the list to everyone and began reading down it, making comments about sales and what places were more affordable. Looking around at the other students in the room, I noticed Foop sitting in his usual seat in the back with a smaller part of the class around him. Only a few dared to sit near him; most tried to avoid him. Every day, they positioned themselves so their backs were facing him no matter the angle. If they caught a glimpse of him, a sneer of disgust spread across their lips. They would whisper crude remarks to each other without the teacher's notice. Some didn't bother to hide that they were bad-mouthing him, even when Foop was clearly listening.

As I continued staring at him, I realized that a pair of  _glaring_ violet eyes were looking back at me. Narrowing my eyes after being caught, we just sat still, glowering at the other. It was only a little while later that I noticed a faint purple blush appear across Foop's blue cheekbones as he finally turned away, with me following. I could feel a faint tingling in my cheeks. _'You're not blushing, Poof. You are_ not _blushing!'_ I knew I was.

' _What was that?'_  I wondered as I bowed my head to hide my face from anyone looking.  _'I hope no one saw that.'_

"…Class dismissed."

The teacher's voice was my haven, as it dragged me away from my thoughts. I started getting up, but paused, remembering what Ms. Dresser had told me earlier. I groaned and plopped back down into my seat, and watched irritably as the others left. Foop passed by me and I turned my head down to my lap to hide –  _no_ , to look away from that  _irritating_  face.

Eventually I looked back up and saw him standing next to the teacher, talking to her about something as she was organizing the papers on her desk.

That's when I began to look Foop over.

His black hair was shaggy and fell across his face until it ended at his chin. Covering his body was a black suit (that he seemed to wear every day, now that I think about it). I pressed my lips together. Foop's my opposite, but I never really noticed exactly how different we were, even ignoring the anti-fairy traits, like the blue skin and bat wings. While I'm a little chubby, he's pretty fit. I have curly hair, he has straight. I look like Mom, he looks like Anti-Cosmo. He takes a lot after Anti-Cosmo, actually…though he's totally gullible like Anti-Wanda.

I saw him back away and poof himself out of here right after. I mentally whacked myself in punishment for catching myself looking at him like that.

I shouldn't be  _looking_  at him.

I shouldn't be  _thinking_ about him.

Rubbing my forehead, I didn't hear Ms. Dresser's approach. I didn't even know she was there until her hand was on my shoulder, shaking me. Jumping from surprise, I turned around to face her.

She took her hand off me to cross her arms across her chest. "I was close to telling you to go home instead of staying after for punishment," she began, "but I couldn't help but notice that you were rather distracted today."

I blushed at her comment, but I told myself that she didn't mean it in the way I was thinking. "Yeah…sorry," I mumbled as I scratched the back of my head nervously, "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Anything you're willing to talk about?"

Slightly put off by her concern, as I've never dealt with it before from her, I shrugged. "Nah, I think I got it covered."

She eyed me critically for a moment before giving up. "If you ever need to talk, and not to give the same type of spiel you were given as a child, but talk to someone you trust, alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, will do."

"That's good." She seemed satisfied with my answer. "Now, to talk about your punishment. I want you to write, without using your wand,  _'I will not be late for class again.'_ " She poofed me a couple pieces of lined paper and a pencil, and set it down in front of me.

"Umm…" I rubbed my hands together nervously, "how many times are we talkin' here?"

"One thousand times." Whatever hope I had that she would say something  _much_  smaller than that number cracked. It's official. I'm going to die from frustration and wrist cramps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you _Simlead_ and _Lady Mayflower_ for the beta!


	3. A Crowd of Bigotry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you _Simlead_ and _Lady Mayflower_ for the beta!

"This one perhaps?" The salesman held out the wand to me, smiling, and I took it. Beaming, I waved it as the star on the end radiated a soft yellow glow. But as soon as I attempted to move an object from a shelf to test it, the star harrowed white and exploded. My bangs were struck straight up and the salesman's mustache fell off into a pile of ash at his feet. We both looked over at the other, me with a sheepish grin on my face and him with a frown. He looked exasperated. Taking the stick from my hand (it was the only remaining part of the wand); he tossed it over his shoulder carelessly to join the pile of my other past failures.

The salesman grumbled, and I could hear things like,  _"don't know nothin'"_ ,  _"wastin' my time",_  and  _"bein' finicky,"_  leave his lips. I didn't think much of it and shrugged it off.

I had been in that store for an hour, and the man helping me was probably ready to throw me out from frustration. I would beat him to it. This place's wands were pieces of crap, but at least they were cheap, and I didn't have much on me.

After that letdown, I was beginning to think of the different ways I could politely leave when I heard the sounds of the entryway bell jingling. I would've ignored it like I had done before. By that time, several fairies had come and gone, and the jingle wasn't unfamiliar. However, this time the man helping me looked up at whoever entered. I watched as the earlier look of irritation changed into something cold. "Anti-fairy," he muttered.

 _'Anti-fairy?'_  It took a moment for me to realize that there was only one anti-fairy that would possibly be in a place like this: Foop.

I didn't think Foop was aware that I was standing only a few feet away with my back to him. He usually said something nasty when we met in public. "Excuse me." His gruff voice and British accent caught the attention of others within the store. I turned to face him somewhat. Foop was squirming, looking nervous, though he was trying to hide it. I guess anyone would feel like that from unneeded interest. "Help me find a wand." A murmur rose up amongst the gathering crowd as they watched the shopkeeper look around, avoiding eye contact, clearly put off by him being there.

"W-well…ermm…" The employee tugged at the collar of his shirt, gulping. He looked like he was about to faint then and there if no one interfered soon. "I…I'm not s-sure if I am supposed t-to…"

"No sure of  _what_?"

The employee flinched. "I-I don't think…I can sell, to—"

"What's the matter, Ziggy?" Another salesman came up from the back room, taking the place of the nervous man who stepped away gratefully. Once he saw Foop standing at the front of the counter, he moved toward him. Foop stood his ground with clenched teeth.

"Listen," the salesman spat. "We don't sell to  _your_  kind."

At those words, I turned completely around to face them. _'What the heck is that guy's problem?'_

Foop didn't even bat an eyelash. "I believe I am qualified to get a wand in spite of your blatant dislike of anti-fairies." He rummaged his hand around in the pants pocket of his trousers, searching for something. He brought out his permit to the open. "This clearly says you have to sell me a wand because it is enforced by my Fairy Economics teacher, Ms. Dresser."

The scared fairy Foop spoke to earlier looked between the salesman and Foop nervously.

The salesman continued glaring. "So  _what?_  I'm the manager of this store, and I am telling  _you_  to leave." He leaned forward over the counter. "Now get out of this store before I  _make_  you."

"Not until I get my wand." Foop was tip-toeing in dangerous territory. The other fairy was obviously bigger than him by a long shot. If he were to get into a fight, the chances of him winning are not in his favor.

The manager did not initiate anything yet, "I'm warning you…" His voice came out in a growl.

Foop hesitated in his reply, looking as if he was thinking over what to do next. The earlier threat was an invitation to something more. Crossing his arms and leaning his weight onto his right leg, he did what I had hoped he wouldn't do.  _"No."_

"Alright," the taller fairy brought out his wand, "you had your chance." Before I could even process what had happened, the manager's wand began to glow. A red beam of light shot itself over the counter dividing them and struck Foop in the stomach. He went flying backwards into a display case. The buttons on his jacket completely melted and the fabric now dangled on singed threads. I could see some of his stomach, and the blue skin there was red with burns.

The manager flew over the counter. It was easier to hit Foop that way, who only held up his arms to block the blows directed at his face. The only sounds that filled the store were his grunts of pain, as the manager was unrelenting in his punches. Fairies within the store just floated there, not doing anything to stop the fight. Some were even sporting grins or smirks as they watched.

I was frozen in my spot. Fear struck me… seeing fights always left me at a standstill. I didn't know what to do. Any logical thought was lost under the panic seizing my mind.

I tuned in again to hear the words spewing from the manager's mouth. "I warned you that this would happen, didn't I?" the manager ground out as a fist met Foop's stomach harshly. Foop clenched down on his tongue as he threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.

Past memories, though a blur, of The Darkness and Timmy, and his ninja movie dedicated to him being 'the chosen one' flashed through my mind. I recalled how much I admired the scenes where he was fighting the bad guys. I used to practice those same ninja moves on Mom and Dad. I think I even tried to hit my mom with nunchucks.

I had enough. I couldn't just stand there, doing nothing. I couldn't be like the rest of the crowd. I started to walk over, my mind set on separating the manager from Foop, but before I could do any of that, the salesman that had been helping me earlier grabbed ahold of my wrist to tug me backwards. "What are ya doin'?" he hissed. "Don't think on stoppin' it, boy. This is gettin' good."

The salesman's eyes were cold and so similar to the looks on the other fairies' faces. This fight was not a bad thing for them. They wanted to see this. My teeth ground against one another, anger buzzing in my head. I understood now.

I wrenched myself away from him and glared. "I'm stopping the fight!"

I poofed myself a pair of nunchucks and readied myself. Before the salesman could grab me again, I flew forward towards the fight. No one else stopped me; most of them probably thought I was going to help fight off ' _the anti-fairy scum._ ' Foop was still on the ground and didn't even notice my approach. Letting the manager hit him like that was taking a lot of restraint. But that would soon end. I could see his control slipping, and if I didn't step in, whatever he was trying to prove by not fighting back was going to be ruined.

"Hey, stop it!" I yelled over Foop's grunts and the manager's curses spewing out from his mouth. Nothing changed though, the manager wasn't listening. Looks like I really had to step in.

I grabbed the manager and hit him straight in the back of the head with my nunchuck. He turned around with a yell, trying to grab at me (or the weapon, or anything. I don't think he was expecting to be snuck up on by a ninja that day.) I hopped back and gave him a hard kick to the chest, knocking him flat on his bottom. He looked up, stunned in anger and disbelief, especially when I reached a hand to help Foop up.

Of course, Foop's pride wouldn't allow him to take any help from me, so he shakily rose to his feet without assistance. He spat blood on the floor as he clutched his stomach. Magic injuries heal much slower than normal bumps and bruises; you can't just poof away a magic burn. On top of that first blast, Foop was also cut and beat up all over from the manager's fists. He wouldn't recover from this for a LONG time.

I took my eyes off him to look over at the manager. Barely a scratch was on him, but that was the point to not using magic. I attacked him the way I did because I had to stop him, not because I wanted to do to him what he just did to Foop. I wasn't about to stoop to his level.

The manager sized me up critically and looked between Foop and I. Though a moment later, his eyes widened and he stammered, "W-wait…" Surprise showed in his voice. "Y-you're Poof…from the magazines."

I wasn't expecting him to recognize me. Or anyone else for that matter, but now that it had been put out there, everyone in the store was looking at me. Foop stood beside me, silent, but his eyes focused on the floor with malice.

A buzz filled the room, and I could hear fairies whispering stuff like, " _The_  Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma? He helped  _his_  anti-fairy?"

I settled my hands on my hips after poofing away the nunchuks. My teeth were clenched, and I glared down at the manager. "It doesn't matter!" The store went silent at my outburst. "Why the heck did you attack  _him_?" I pointed at Foop, who seemed taken aback at my question.

The manager was as well. He furrowed his eyebrows, and shrugged. "You heard him, you were here. He wouldn't leave my store. I had to get him out, you know, so he wouldn't disrupt the peace."

"What I remember is you threatening him, beating him up, and only stopping when I attacked you without Foop actually doing anything!" I said all in one breath, and the truth rung true. But the manger didn't look like he would admit that any time soon.

When the manager opened his mouth opened to respond, another voice cut him off.

"Stop!" Foop shouted and we both whipped our heads around to stare at him, startled. Foop's stance was stiff, and his shoulders shuddered. He pointed at me, and huffed out, "Why the hell are  _you_  coming to  _my_  defense?"

I jumped, and stammered out, "Because…well, because…"

"Because  _what?_ " Foop shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. When I didn't respond, he just rolled his eyes and muttered, "Yeah, that's what I thought." I couldn't look him in the eye. I only looked back up at him when he flew out of the store.

Not bothering to get a final word in with the manager, I followed after without hesitation.

* * *

Even though the only thing on my mind was to catch Foop, I was distracted. That fight…not once did Foop fight  _back_. He just allowed the manager to beat down on him, just taking it. It was too unusual. I was worried and all, but I also wanted to know  _why_ he acted that way.

I fluttered my wings harder, turned a corner, and nearly flew right into him. Foop's eyes were skimming the cityscape, looking carefully in search of something. He didn't even glance at me as I approached. "Leave me alone. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

I ignored his warning. "Uh, well, are you okay…?" Trailing off, he kept tight-lipped with a permanent frown in place. I stepped closer when he didn't respond. "You didn't fight back."

"I know." He wiped the remaining blood from his chin. A scratch along his cheek rapidly closed up with a hiss.

"Why?"

Poofing up a handkerchief and a small rectangular mirror that hovered near his head, he began patting down his face. He did it with expertise. Floating a little closer, I offered, "I can help you with that."

Foop chuckled in feigned humor. "You're offering to help  _your_  arch nemesis?"

"Um…yeah." I blinked, sucking my bottom lip behind my front teeth.

"Is there a reason for the change of heart?" Foop eyed me suspiciously, but I held up my hands up in peace.

"I don't have any bad intentions. I'm just confused, that's all," I expressed.

Foop waved if off with a roll of his eyes. "And you expect me to believe that rubbish?"

"You expect me not to be worried about you? Or what you might do?" I snapped. My temper burned for a bit, but it cooled off when he turned his back on me. His handkerchief and mirror disappeared in a cloud of purple. Blood stained the white collar of his shirt (not forgetting that his suit was also burned and tattered) and his face was swelled up with bruises.

"Foop, stop." He was about to poof away when I made the order. He paused, but I'm sure if he weren't so surprised from my forwardness, he most likely would've gone anyway. "You're still—"

"I'm fine." He turned suddenly, and marched up to me until we were nearly nose to nose. "And never tell me what to do."

He tried again to leave; my hand on his forearm stopped him.

Foop slapped my hand away instantly. "Leave it alone, barmpot!"

"…Barmpot?" I muttered with knitted eyebrows.

" _Clusmy idiot_ ," Foop elaborated with a hiss through his vampire teeth. If looks could kill, I would be dead on the floor right now. "Don't you dare do something like that again!"

"Jeez, way of expressing gratitude."

"Expressing  _my_  gratitude?" Foop jabbed his pointer finger into my chest, "In your highly insignificant dreams." I pushed his finger away, but in reaction he grabbed my shoulders. "You do that again, and I'll—"

"—Destroy me?" I completed his sentence with a deep frown. "You didn't destroy the manager in there when he was beating up on you. So why should I believe you'll do it to me then?"

Foop's thumbs dug into the hollow of my collar bone, but I didn't back down, even if it did cause me to wince. The look on his face was near hostile.

"Why didn't you fight back, Foop? You have a right to defend yourself when a fairy does that!"

"Why should I explain it to you? You're too dimwitted and—"

"And what? I can't help you then?"

"No, you can't," he spat. "You or anyone else for that matter!"  
"…What about yourself?" The question caused him to pause.

His eyes finally left mine, and he muttered, "…I can't."

" _Why?"_

"Enough with these questions already! Don't you have somewhere special to be?  _'You are Fairy World's greatest celebrity!'_ " He mocked the voice of Fairy Hart all the way down to her smile. It instantly fell as soon as he was done. "Go to some photo shoot or whatever. Your fans must just be  _dying_  to see you."

Foop stuffed his hands in his pockets, and a glow shined through the dark fabric on the right side, where his wand must've been. Before I could grab him for the third time, he poofed away, and I was grasping at air. I coughed at the purple smoke, and blinked my eyes rapidly. When it finally cleared, it was just me with no anti-fairy in sight.

* * *

As I entered my apartment, I combed my fingers through my tussled hair. Never again did I want a repeat of today…I was exhausted, more than I've felt in ages, even with my usual problems with school and the pooferazzi. So many thoughts filled my head, mostly questions as to what the heck happened. I still couldn't make sense as to why Foop didn't fight back or what he was trying to avoid. I swear he looked paranoid about something. What was he even worried about?

I collapsed on my bed, abandoning dinner, and poofed myself into a pair of pajamas. I just wanted to sleep and forget about everything. I wanted to silence the chaos in my mind.

But it wouldn't calm, and I fell into a troubled sleep, my thoughts full of confusion and worry.


	4. What Job?

The next morning, I woke with a start. My hand was planted on my nose (which throbbed painfully), and something cold and sticky stuck to my cheekbones. I pulled my hand off and licked whatever it was off of my lip, grumbling when the taste of whipped cream hit my mouth. There was laughter off to the side, one that was high-pitched and loud. There's only one fairy in all of Fairy World who would even use the old "whipped cream and the nose-tickle" gag, much less laugh so hard at it: Dad.

' _I really need to get an alarm system,'_ I thought, flicking some of my fistful of whipped cream in the direction of the laughter. "Dad, what did Mom say about pranking me?"

His laughter split his words up into fragments, but I made out, "late morning…Wanda… tempting!" I roughly translated that as "Your mom told me to wake you up, and I couldn't help myself." Typical Dad.

I blindly reached over to the bedside table for a tissue. Once I found them, I grabbed four from the box to wipe the whipped cream from my hand, and then my eyes to see. After clearing most of it off, I glared over at Dad, who was holding a can of whipped cream and a feather in his hands as he did somersaults in midair.

"You just love to torture me." He's been pulling more pranks ever since he and Mom got their new godchild, Samantha. (I've never met her, but I hear she's a brat. At least she doesn't keep them so busy all of the time, though.) I guess whatever fun he's not having with her, he's taking out on me.

"You got a little whipped cream there." Dad pointed all over his own face, giggling. I grumbled in annoyance while I tried to wipe the remaining whipped cream from my face. As soon as I was done, he leaned over to give me a back-breaking hug. "Good morning Poof!" I returned one like his after poofing away the tissues into the trash bin, which he responded with, "Ah! My back!" His spine made a loud cracking noise, and I chuckled. Of course he was joking. I think.

Pulling back, I narrowed my eyes at him. "Just 'cause you hugged me doesn't mean I forgive you, you know." He laughed again and I couldn't help but crack a grin. We both know I couldn't stay mad at him.

.

After getting out of my pajamas, Dad and I headed to the kitchen. Inside, Mom was flying around, managing pancakes on the stove and spreading butter on the ones already done. A pair of enchanted tongs cooked bacon on the stove while a spatula flipped scrambled eggs on the other burner. I watched, amused, as she hummed a merry tune, not noticing Dad and I inside the room.

I broke that unawareness. "Mom?"

Upon being called out, she stopped what she was doing to turn around. "Oh, Poof!" she exclaimed. "You're awake! Honey, how are-…" Her sentence trailed off as she stared fixedly at my face. I touched my head, confused. _'What is she looking at?'_ That's when I felt it. Strands of my hair were clumped together still from the whipped cream. "Cosmo?"

Dad stepped up. His face showed nothing but innocence, but it was just a mask for his panic. "Yes, dear?"

Mom put her hands on her hips after putting down the knife in her hand. A frown turned down her earlier grin. "Did you do this to Poof?" She waved her hand my way. There was no overlooking the tone of disapproval in her voice.

A nervous tick in Dad's smile started. "Umm….suppose I say _'yeeeesss'_ …. will I be yelled at?"

She got the answer she needed. "That is not what I meant when I said to wake up Poof!"

"B-b-but he was sleeping! Like a cute little baby! And I couldn't help it!"

"Cosmo…" Everything, from the hands on her hips to the angry look on her face, told of a lecture.

Dad and I shared a look. His facial expression showed fear; it was like he was looking to me for help. I sent back a glare of annoyance. _'He got himself into this mess…'_

"When I tell you to wake up Poof, I do not mean prank him. I mean for you to shake him awake or something. I swear Cosmo, I've told you this a thousand times. I give you the same lecture every time you pull things like this…" Mom trailed off and floated closer to Dad. I didn't notice before, but during Mom's lecture, he poofed himself a pair of headphones. They read, "Anti-Nag Headset" along the headband. That set Mom off again.

She ripped them off, and yelled, "Cosmo!"

"No, Wanda, I need those!" Her hand fended Dad off when he tried to get the headphones back. "My ears will be nagged to death without them!"

"I'm trying to teach you responsibility and you're ignoring me!" Mom poofed away the Anti-Nag Headset and Dad, in fear of her lecture, changed into a green earthworm. "Oh, sure, transform yourself into a worm!" I had to give Dad credit; turning into something that's deaf was pretty creative. Unfortunately, I'm sure Mom's voice caused vibrations from the intensity, so he wasn't out of it yet.

I was right, because as Mom carried on yelling, he transformed back into himself. "Ah! Even an earthworm can't escape your nagging!"

Mom's face turned red, and just as she was about to go on, my oven dinged. She stopped, but continued glaring at Dad; the lecture was far from over, but for now, he gave a loud 'phew!' of relief.

Flying back into the kitchen, Mom checked everything (she cooked pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hash browns) and announced breakfast was ready. Items dropped down on the counter; she must've enchanted them to finish breakfast.

Like a switch, Dad was up from the ground, and cheered at the announcement. "Alright! Breakfast! I'm starving!" But before he could rush over to the food, Mom poofed a rope around him, and he fell to the floor again. His face hit the floor, dazing him.

Mom rolled her eyes, muttering something about Dad stealing all the food, and waved me over to set the table. I glanced back at Dad – stars were dancing above his head and he watched them, giggling to himself. He got whatever he deserved, I guess.

We placed the food on the table, and quickly stabbed for what we wanted and put it on our plates. It was only then that Mom released Dad from his binding, who was just as quick to rush over and get his own food. I laughed at him. He acted like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

We sat in silence for a moment, just eating, but soon it was broken when Mom asked, "So, how's Fairy Economics going?" I was swallowing bacon then, and choked at the question. Dad was quick to pound my back, and Mom whipped her wand out, ready to poof up Dr. Rip Studwell. Luckily, I dislodged the bacon and spat it into my napkin. They only calmed down after I reassured them I was fine and sipped at my juice without choking.

Dad plopped down into his seat with a heavy sigh, and Mom put away her wand.

"Okay…" Peering at me, she asked again, "How is Fairy Economics going?" Mom went tense after the question, as did I, but I'm sure she was preparing herself for another choking-fest from me. I wasn't swallowing anything, so it was okay. Though I sort of wish I was choking…I didn't know how to say, ' _Terrible! I think I'm going to fail!'_

I rubbed the back of my head nervously. "Uh, well, you know, it's tough work."

"That sounds painful!" Dad bit his lip, shaking, and openly stared at me with wide eyes. It was like he was watching a horror movie.

"So you're getting all your work done, then?"

"Yeah, I get all my work done!" Crap! Mom was eyeing me suspiciously. I forgot; don't recite the question into your answer! Quickly, I tried to cover it up. "And Ms. Dresser is nice. She talked me on Friday and said I'm doing well." All lies and Dad seemed to be the only one buying it. I'm sure Mom's narrowed stare meant she was onto me. I quickly shoved some bacon into my mouth to distract myself.

Mom dropped it, but I knew her. She would bring it up later. "So, have you found a job yet, sweetie?" I was about to chomp down on a piece of scrambled egg, but froze mid-bite at the question. Crap that was another thing I had forgotten. I was too busy with other stuff, but what I was supposed to say? _'No, Mom, I haven't yet! So can I live off you and Dad's paycheck for a while longer?'_ She wouldn't take that – I couldn't say the same for Dad, he probably wouldn't care either way – but still, I felt guilty.

I decided to suck it up. "Uh…no."

Mom, who was sipping at her orange juice, did a spit take across the table, showering Dad in the beverage. He just laughed merrily. "Look, it's raining orange juice!"

Mom rolled her eyes, cheeks rosy at the accident, and turned toward me with a frown of disapproval. "Poof, I told you: as soon as you're settled in, find a job."

I ducked my head, unable to look her in eye. "Sorry…it's just…well, I haven't had the time." Just as she was about to say _how_ many days I had, I added, "Plus, you know I've never been able to hold down a job!"

When I first got a job in my sophomore year of high school, I worked at an ice cream parlor. The ice cream machine stopped working one day, so I tried to fix it. Stupid thing blew up in my face! I lost that job just as soon as I got it. Another time, I volunteered with Mom down at the Fairy World Pet Store. Somehow, when I was caught up playing with one of the puppies (Mom was doing something else in the other room), the doors on every cage disappeared! The puppy I was holding then bit me and flew off with the other animals out of the store. After that, it was a mad chase to get every animal back, and soon as we were done, the owner of the place shut their door on us, forbidding us from coming back ever again. (It was the owner's fault for forgetting to put magical barriers on the cages!)

It was the undeniable truth: I just wasn't made for a job.

"You know, sweetie," Mom began. "The invitation is still open for you to come live with us and our new godchild."

That caught my attention. " _New godchild?_ What about Samantha?"

"Don't worry about what-" Mom started.

"She got messed up and blabbed about us to her friends," Dad blurted out, earning him a hard smack from Mom. "Ow! What, he asked!"

"Don't change the topic, Poof," she said instead, turning back towards me. "We're talking about your future here." I slumped low in my chair with a defeated sigh. "We can make sure to wake you up on time to get to classes, and—"

"And in your free time, you can hang out with us!" Dad added cheerily.

Mom gave me the 'pretty-please' eyes. "I'm just saying we miss you, Poof, and if you're that busy with school, it might not be a bad idea."

I shook my head. "I can't. It's been seventy-six years, Mom. I'm a young adult now…I can't stay with you and Dad forever." She gave me a look at _'forever'_ , but I ignored it. "I can try finding a job, I guess…I heard the place where Goldie works is hiring."

"What position?" Mom looked a little disheartened at my reply to her offer, but seemed interested nonetheless.

I shrugged, and answered, "I think a busboy, but I'm not sure." I reached over to the middle of the table to grab the ketchup to put some on my eggs. "Y'know, clear tables, set tables, dishes, that kind of stuff." Her mood seemed to have lightened after I offered to find a job at Planet Fairy World. I didn't say anything, and thought over it. I wasn't excited at the idea of getting a job.

For the moment the conversation between us fell silent, and I took the time to eat what was on my plate. I took a bite into a slice of bacon and later a piece of scrambled egg.

"So Poof, what else is new?" Dad asked, taking another sloppy, syrupy bite of his pancake stack, which stood way taller than he did. (I'm pretty sure he used the entire bottle of syrup on the thing.)

"Uh…" I couldn't think of anything. Every time Dad carved a bite of pancake out of the bottom, the entire stack started waving around like the Tower of Pisa.

"Oh, come on, you've got to have something exciting going on!"

"Dad, your pancakes."

"I know, aren't they delicious? I could almost stick my face in these pancakes, they're so good!" He thought about it for a moment, then did just that, taking a big, chunky bite out of the stack's base. "Mmm-hmm! Pancake-y goodness!"

He tried to go back to starting a conversation, but the Leaning Tower of Pancake finally gave up and collapsed. It crashed down on top of Dad, burying him in pancake and syrup and only leaving a twitchy hand to dig its way out.

Mom just laughed. I stared, a little in disbelief, but mostly in disgust. This is why I eat out or out at Goldie's; cleaning up messes is fine, but I can't _stand_ big, sticky messes.

She poofed away the mess (though Dad was still covered in sticky syrup residue). "Thanks, Wanda!" he cooed. "Man, that was close. I thought I saw the light for a second. A delicious, pancake-y light."

They leaned in to kiss, so I turned my head. First off, Dad is still syrupy – gross. Second off, ew, parents kissing. I don't mind PDA; I'm sure it's nice for young couples in love or whatever. But really, there should be something in _Da Rules_ about doing it in front of your kids.

Dad noticed and decided to turn the affections towards me. "Aw, what's the matter, Poof? Do you need a hug and kiss, too?"

I normally don't mind getting hugs from my parents, but _no._ He was _syrup-coated_. I held my arms out to fend him off, cringing when his shirt stuck to my hands. "Uh, D-Dad, you're covered in—Dad, no, no, _no-_!" I gasped when my hold broke and he came forward to encircle me in his arms.

Luckily, a white lab coat poofed its way on me at the last second. Knowing who did it, I sent Mom a grateful look, which she returned with a nod.

"Oh, Cosmo, we almost forgot the whole reason we came here!" Distracted now, Dad let me go, and the coat disappeared.

" _Oooh_ , yeah." He went up to Mom like an eager puppy, making grabby hands as he waited for her to give him something (whatever it was). "Wanda, can I give it to him, _please?"_

"Yes, you can." Mom rolled her eyes and placed a cardboard package into Dad's hands. I raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"I asked as Dad held out the gift to me.

Neither of them answered. "Here Poof!" Dad eagerly waited for me to take it, but I hesitated. They spent money on me again. I've been using most of their paychecks for rent already!

"I can't accept this." I shook my head as Dad nudged me with the package. I kept refusing, but Dad still pushed.

Mom spoke up, "It's nothing store-bought."

"Take it!" Dad waved the package frantically in my face. "C'mon Poof, you _have_ to!"

I licked my lips. "Are…are you sure?"

Mom's smile appeared forced, but I couldn't understand why. "Cosmo's wanted to give this to you for a _long_ time."

"And now I can!" Dad sent me the puppy-dog look, something he knew I couldn't say no to.

I sighed and grabbed the box out of his hands. " _Fine_ , I guess I'll take it." Unlike my voice, inside I was buzzing with excitement.

Dad watched eagerly, chanting, "Open it, open it, _open_ _it!"_

"Alright, alright! _Sheesh_ , calm down." With my finger, I ripped away any tape that kept the lid shut. Once that was done, I threw off the top, and froze. Inside the box…there was a wand.

I gaped, and looked between my parents and the wand in disbelief. It wasn't new – the chips in the blank paint on the handle showed that - but I didn't care about the age. They got me a _wand_.

A grin split across my face. "Oh wow, I can't even…" I tripped over the right words to say. It was near impossible to settle on something. "Just, thank you so much! It means a lot." I hugged Mom and Dad (why was Dad _still_ sticky with syrup?)

Mom wrapped her arms around my mid-back and Dad threw one over my shoulder, laughing as he did. I just shook my head at him and gave them a squeeze. We let go after a second; Mom was the first to relinquish her grip, though Dad took a minute to follow.

With my thanks out of the way, I snatched the wand from the box to test its weight in my hand. It felt nice, like how my rattle felt when I held it. Waving it around, I watched as the plates on the table glowed purple and levitated.

"Well, at least it isn't exploding," I sighed in relief.

"Exploding?" Mom raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, never mind." Now that I think about it, was I supposed to be billed for those wands?

Mom watched the plates wearily, but Dad didn't care, and exclaimed happily, "This was my first wand, Poof! I had it in Fairy Academy, and it broke in half." When I thoroughly looked for it, I could faintly see a thin scar where it snapped, which was close to the star tip. "My mommy got me this wand." He waved his own wand around for emphasis.

"So…why did you keep this one?" It didn't make sense to me as to why he would keep something that had been broken. It was obvious that it was repaired, but was this wand even safe to use?

"Uh…." I could tell he didn't have an answer, even though he was trying to come up with one.

Mom came in for the rescue. "After you were born, Cosmo decided he wanted give this to you when you finally got your permit." Quickly, she included, "You can always get a better wand though or get one later on, sweetie. It's not an issue…."

Remembering how Foop was treated in that one particular wand store, I didn't know if I wanted to get a new one for a while. "I'm fine with this one Mom, it's okay." _I think._

Before she could argue, Dad exclaimed, "Great! We can be wand-buddies now!" I shook my head at him.

We continued eating after that, but after we were close to finishing, Mom and Dad's wands started flashing in their pockets. They both took their wands out and like some shocking, hidden message were conveyed to them, their eyes widened.

Curiously, I asked, "What is it?"

Mom looked over at me, and gave me a small smile. "Sorry sweetie. Artur wants us."

" _Ay-tur_ …?" The name was little awkward for me to pronounce, but I think I got it. "Is he your new godchild?"

"It is. He lives in Saint Petersburg."

"He's Russian!"

"That's…nice." It didn't look like Dad heard me, as did Mom. She was busy talking on her pink cell-phone with somebody in another language. After a minute, she snapped the lid shut, and turned to me.

"Sorry, but we have to leave," she apologized again, and brushed a hand through my hair. She then pulled me forward and gave me a peck on the forehead. "You should come by to visit, Poof."

"I'll try, Mom." I felt a little sad to see them leave so soon, but I knew they had duties as fairy godparents. And to think, that would be me if I passed my exams.

They gave me a hug with Dad yelling, "We'll miss you Poof!" and poofed out of my house.

For a moment, I just stood there, taking in the quick change. One moment we were having a family breakfast, and the next they were leaving. I should be used to how busy they are by now.

 _Leaving…_. "Hold on a second." Glancing around my kitchen and small dining room confirmed something. "Mom left me with all these dishes!" I really _am_ lucky to be a fairy.

.

I flumped down on my couch with a deep sigh; there were so many things to clean. I tackled the kitchen first, cleaning up pots and pans, and then the plates. My magic took care of the rest, but since Dad's plate was the worse, I decided to clean if myself. A familiar ache from when Ms. Dresser had me write all those words came up again, this time in both my wrists from scrubbing so much. Syrup and small pieces of pancake were cemented to the plate, and it took a metal sponge and several douses of dish soap to get it all off. _'Next time they visit in the morning, no pancakes!'_

I laid my arm across my face and relaxed into the cushions. I could take a nap right now; I love my parents, but putting up with them can be exhausting. But it was already eleven (it took me an hour to finish cleaning), and even if I didn't want to, I had to finish my resume for the Planet Fairy World job. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and we had the day off from classes. I wanted to go out and see the military parade, which meant this resume had to be done today.

I should have asked Mom and Dad if they were going to the parade. Maybe they would take Artur with them if they did. I considered calling them to ask, but decided against it. I really needed to finish my job resume.

Poofing up a pen and paper with a clipboard, I tried to remember how I set up my resume the first time. Tapping my pencil against my chin, I first jotted down the usual stuff: name, address, and phone number. Beneath, I listed where I graduated and Fairy Economics.

Okay, next, what are my major accomplishments? 'Losing jobs…' I thought moodily, but instead wrote in bullet points: "Won a Zappy award at age twenty for 'Being Me'; was on the Fairy News Network several times since I was a baby…." The list continued; not everything was in order, but it would do. To round it up, I put down the two jobs I had in the past. "There, done." It took twenty minutes, faster than I expected, but I finished.

I tapped my wand against the paper. In an instant, every word on the paper turned from my messy handwriting to a neatly-typed font. I then got an envelope to fit the resume inside, and to be safe, I wrote the address of Planet Fairy World on the back.

I poofed it out of the house. If I got it right, it should be in their mailbox right now.

.

A few days came and went, and I hadn't heard anything from Planet Fairy World. I was starting to think I wouldn't get a call from them at all…

I gave a start when my phone rang. I nearly fell completely off my couch, but caught myself before I could do so. Rubbing a hand over my face, I groaned in frustration. I had to get up to fetch it. Mom always yells at me for using magic to get things that are too far away; she says I need to stop being so lazy.

Oh, well. I was tired, so I poofed the phone over and answered it.

"Helemur…" I yawned, and corrected myself, "sorry, hello."

"Hello, is this Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma speaking?" The voice on the other end was dull and spoke with a posh accent. Sounded like some stuck-up chick or something.

Stretching as I sat up on the coach, I propped my feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah, yeah, it's me."

"I am the manager of Planet Fairy World. Mr. Button-Bottom read over your job resume and would like you to come in today for an interview."

At hearing who she was and where she worked, I immediately straightened up. "Oh, wow, today?" I looked over at the clock on the wall. It read two thirty in the afternoon. "Don't you guys wait for a while?"

"Tonight is Valentine's Day," she said, as if it explained everything

"Busy night?"

"Quite. We are low on staff members, so if you get the job, Mr. Button-Bottom will have our other busboy train you to work this afternoon." Her voice left no question as she asked, "Alright?"

I swallowed thickly. "Uh, yeah, alright-y." I nearly slapped my forehead. "I mean, alright."

"Good. Come in at five-thirty this afternoon with dress clothes. It's mandatory." She then hung up with no goodbyes.

.

At my arrival to Planet Fairy World for the interview, the manager led me to Mr. Button-Bottom's office, which was in the back of the restaurant. To get there, we had to pass tables full of fairies, and many turned their heads to watch me. Planet Fairy World was one of the fanciest restaurants in Fairy World. It was a place made for Zappy-winning celebrities and super-rich fairies; almost all of the diners were in nice suits and sparkling dresses. And here I was in my purple argyle sweater vest and the only decent white dress shirt and black pants I had. Still, it was this or my suit from junior prom, and I definitely wasn't wearing that stuffy old thing.

The manager knocking on the office door broke me out of my internal panicking. 'Breathe, Poof, breathe!' I advised myself, breathing deeply. It didn't help. The first time I went to an interview, it was that ice cream place. The business there wasn't nearly as high class, and talking to the boss was nothing like this.

There was a muffled answer to her knocking inside, something like, "yeah, I know!" The man's voice was rough, and almost Jorgen-like in volume.

"Mr. Button-Bottom will see you now," the manager said and turned to leave. She didn't even wish me luck or anything, she just turned and left.

"Uh, thank you…" I said to her retreating back. She didn't acknowledge that I said anything, and turned the corner. It was just me standing in the narrow hallway then, blinking stupidly at the doorknob. All motor skills vanished; I couldn't even muster up the will to put my hand on the handle. _'I feel like I'm going to be sick.'_

Gulping, I mustered up the courage to move, and grabbed ahold of the doorknob. _'Here goes nothing.'_

I opened the door, and instantly a blast of hot air and the smell of smoke almost knocked me back. I coughed a few times and waved my hand in front of me to clear what I could as I floated inside. The office was murky and gray. White curtains (stained a nasty yellow) hung over a window. The light coming through did little to illuminate the room, which I could see was in chaos. Paperwork littered the desk and documents were messily organized into manila folders.

Through the haze, I could see a hand holding a cigar. Mr. Button-Bottom wasn't facing me, but I could see the outline of his face as he inhaled and exhaled smoke between his lips. I cleared my throat to get his attention. "Uh, Mr. Button-Bottom?"

"That's _sir_ to you," he said, turning towards me in his black swivel chair.

I jumped in surprise at the sight of him. Dressed in a pinstripe suit, a black undershirt beneath, a white tie and a fedora to complete the look…Mr. Button-Bottom was a gangster. A gangster who was smiling cruelly over at me. I backed up. Big Daddy is my grandpa, I know him. By then, I was familiar with how to act around him, but something I learned was this: not every gangster is the same.

The door slammed shut behind me sooner than I could get out (he was the culprit), leaving me trapped. I frantically prayed he would be like Grandpa.

He didn't get up or do anything, to my relief. He just waited silently until my breathing started to return to normal.

"So yer Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma, eh?" He gestured to the seat in front of his desk. "Sit." It wasn't a question, but a demand, and hell if I was going to argue it. I quickly flew over and sat like an obedient puppy, still stiff and weary of him. There were a few things I didn't understand. Mainly, why was the owner of Planet Fairy World a gangster?

"So I heard yer top stuff in Fairy World," Mr. Button-Bottom began. "The top baby, yeah? 'Specially with that grandpa of yours…Big Daddy, eh?" So he knows about Grandpa. "Well, I got news for ya kid, and that's I don't give _no shits 'bout it._ " The last part came out in a snarl. "Ye can act all high class and flaunt around like some hoochie mama, but in my restaurant, you're the underlin', understand?" I couldn't nod fast enough, even though I had no clue what a ' _hoochie mama'_ was. "You're my babbo, the ant under my boot. If I tell ya to give me twenty, you'll give me fifty, understand?"

"Erm…twenty of what? Sorry," I added sheepishly.

" _Fifty_ push-ups." I rigged my jaw shut at the tone, and decided just to stay silent. "In yer resume, ya said ye wanted to be the busboy, yeah?"

Figuring I had to answer him, I squeaked out, "Yes."

"Hmm…" Mr. Button-Bottom eyed me pensively, and inhaled from his cigar. He breathed out the smoke when he leaned forward to say, "Ye don't seem bad. A little weak-armed, maybe, but we can toughen ya up, babbo."

Too nervous to fan the smoke away (I didn't want to insult my new boss, especially since I couldn't tell if he liked me or not), I coughed again when I accidently inhaled some.

Mr. Button-Bottom laughed. "What's the matter with ya? Never had a cig before, eh?" He offered his box of cigars to me by waving it in my face. "Never too late to try."

Quickly, I declined, "Yeah, an' I never…ehem," I coughed, " _plan to,_ thank you."

"Hmm… _unfortunate_." He put the pack away, and didn't make any further mention of smoking. He stubbed the end of his cigar out on an ashtray while his eyes scanned what I think was my resume.

With him not paying attention to me, I tried to look everywhere but at him. With a closer view of things in his office, I could make out pictures (they looked like tiles before) on the walls. They were different photos of him, each showing him in a new style. The latest was his current look, while the first one he was a caveman.

"Ye see my photos, eh?"

I gave a start at the sudden voice. Glancing over at Mr. Button-Bottom (he was glaring at me), I wet my lips nervously and asked, "Uh…in those pictures there, why are you so…?" _Different_ , I wanted to ask. But why I was saying anything in the first place was beyond me, and mentally I slapped myself.

He didn't seem put off by the personal question as he stared fondly up at the photos. "Ah yes," his tone lightened, even his speech pattern changed and sounded more normal. "That's a running gag between me and my friends. Each century I dress as something else." He narrowed his dark eyes at me, and his earlier voice returned. "But just because I ain't a real gangster don't mean I don't act like one, understood?" To punctuate that, he slammed his fist down on the desk.

I jumped, nodded, and stuttered out an, _"Understood."_

My conclusion on Mr. Button-Bottom was: he wasn't worse than Grandpa, but still intimidating.

Pressing a button on his phone, he waited until someone picked up on the other end. When they did, he ordered, "Benji, get yer skinny ass up here. We got _fresh meat_." His last two words caused me to tremble.

The voice on the other side made me pause. "I, right there, will be, sir." The line disconnected, and…was that fairy talking like Yoni?

A second later, a poof of green smoke flew through the door, so I swiveled my chair to see him. Benji wasn't anything like what I expected another Space Wars fan to look like (especially one that talks like Yoni). All of the other Space Wars fans I've ever seen were…well, total nerds. But Benji was…well, _cool_. His hair was dyed neon green and stylized into a mohawk. The sides were shaved, leaving a shadow of black. His ears were heavily pierced with hoops and he had a septum ring in his nose. He was tall, lanky, and… _different._

"Benji, yer late." Mr. Button-Bottom looked at his watch and back up at him with a scowl. "I expect one second, not three, for ya to get here."

Benji bowed. "Sorry for the inconvenience, I am, sir."

"We got fresh meat here, and ye need to train 'im." Mr. Button-Bottom leaned back into his chair and got another cigar from his box. It lit up without a lighter. "Benji…" He gestured over to me. "Babbo, or Poof. Babbo, Benji."

Benji held out his hand to me. His eyes shone with humor as he said, "To meet you nice, babbo."

My cheeks felt hot, and I kind of stared at his hand like I didn't know what to do with it. It clicked after a second, and nervously I laughed as I grabbed his hand. While shaking it, I replied in my best Yoni impression, "Great to meet the one who's going to be training me, it is. Yes, hmmm."

He returned my laughter. "I see, a fellow Space Wars fan, you are."

"Ever since I watched the first movie!"

"Great, the movie was. As hear and see with my hair, you can, my favorite character, Yoni is."

"Yoni is a great character, but I'm afraid my favorite is Luke Flyshooter. I even had a light saber battle with someone while acting as him once."

He was about to open his mouth to say something back, but Mr. Button-Bottom cut in. "Okay, before yer…whatever starts up again, _leave_." He waved us both out. "I don't need ya stuffin' up my room with yer Space Whatevers fanatics."

"Yes sir," Benji said, saluting. Where he got off talking like that to Mr. Button-Bottom beats me, but it seemed he was used to it. He rolled his eyes at Benji and waved his wand.

Abruptly, we were poofed out of there in a flash of purple.

.

"The art of cleaning tables is a delicate process and must not be taken lightly." Already I could tell Benji took his job way too seriously, and that was from ten minutes of watching him. He did his job with so much precision, picking up utensils like they would shatter any minute. It should have been weird, but using his Yoni impression to teach me how to use "the force" against "the evil germ empire" made it a lot better.

Whenever he asked me questions, I was hesitant to say anything, and could only get out short, murmured sentences. It wasn't that Benji was scary, but it was nerve-racking to meet another fan. Space Wars wasn't nearly as popular in Fairy World as it was on Earth. If it wasn't for me being shy, I would be outright _fanboying._

Once he got the table cleared (the dirty dishes went in a tub, which I held), we headed to another two-seated table. The couple there left most of their food, and that time, I was the one who had to clean it up. Benji sent me an encouraging smile, but...whoever ate there ordered _rump roast_. My stare wouldn't move away from it, and my stomach grumbled.

A hand touched my shoulder and squeezed it. "I know, hard, it is, but to fight through the temptation, you have to."

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve to get rid of the dripping saliva. "I don't think I can do it."

"You must, you can."

"No, _please_. Why don't you do it?"

Benji's speech, finally, turned to his own. "After this Poof, and I show you where to put the dishes, you're on your own. We need to cover more ground."

"…But it's _rump roast_."

His hand on my shoulder tightened. "You can do this. You're strong."

Strong? Against rump roast? The idea was laughable. I couldn't resist it when Crocker brought it out and ended up stuck in his crockpot. But if I wanted to keep this job…if I had to resist the delectable...mouthwatering… _delectable_ —Wait, I thought that already. Then I could do this. (More like I had to do this.) So I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed the plate with the rump roast, and tossed it into the full bin of dishes. Benji slapped me on the back and clapped. I'm sure anyone seeing us right now were giving us weird looks.

"Now comes the worst part," Benji said, taking the bin of dishes from me. "Scraping the food off."

I needed to remember I was doing this for Mom and Dad so I could pay off my debt (even though they insisted there wasn't one.) I just wish it wasn't so painful!

.

 _'I finally cleared five tables, and I haven't messed up once!'_ I tucked the bin full of dirty dishes under my arm. Since it didn't fit, I held a half-eaten plate of spaghetti in my hand. This last table was covered; a big family gathering was just sitting there. It probably would've made more sense for me to leave half of the dirty dishes there at the table and then come back to get the rest, but I wanted to get this done.

I gave the table another once over for any missed dishes before I started to fly over to the kitchen. As I went, I dodged waiters and waitresses, and grinned at Goldie when I passed her. She gave me a brief thumbs up and mouthed, "Good job!"

I mentally gave myself a pat on the back. Maybe it was possible for me to keep a job longer than an hour! Just the thought of getting my first paycheck gave me excited jitters. Mom's going to be so proud once I tell her I made it through today. I'm so used to getting fired just as soon as I start working. Perhaps being a busboy wasn't so bad after all.

Daydreaming and work are bad combinations, by the way. I toppled over - I don't even know what happened! The bin of dishes under my arm crashed to the ground like a cymbal. The spaghetti went flying from my hand, but I didn't see where it went. My head smacked against the floor, and my neck rolled painfully as I flipped. Something drenched my pant leg when I hit the table.

The dining hall fell silent. I laid there in a daze. My feet were on top of the table I hit while the rest of me was on the ground. I tried to gather all of what happened: either I ran into something or someone's chair pulled out just as I was flying by, and didn't take notice of a chair next to me tumbling over. But I definitely heard the screech of, "My hair! My _DRESS!"_ Through the shadows the lights overhead casted on the face of the fairy above me, I could see noodles hanging off her head. Red sauce stained the whole front of her blue dress.

I blinked, and then blinked again before my eyes widened. Everything clicked together. _'Oh shit. So that's where the spaghetti went.'_ And suddenly I was scrambling to my feet, ignoring the pain flaring up my back, to hurriedly find something that could help. Already, the fairy I spilled spaghetti on was trying to use a cloth and water from their drink to clean the sauce. Their table buddies were calling for a waiter or something, but I was only half listening.

The first thing I did was beg for mercy. The look on her face was absolutely terrifying; she was beyond pissed. "I'm so, so, so sorry!" I stared in shock at the whole mess, covering my gaping mouth, and just stood there for a second before turning. I had to help clean the mess I created.

 _'…The mess I created…'_ I'm _so_ fired.

Grabbing the corner of the tablecloth, I stole the glass of water she was using to dunk the whole end into it and yanked it closer to her.

It was the wrong move. Everything on the table fell over like dominos. Glass broke, plates fell, and an expensive bottle of wine wobbled dangerously close to the edge. I prayed over and over in bated breath, "Please don't, please don't fall, please don't fall." It didn't. It settled, intact, and I breathed out a sigh in relief.

I spun around after dropping the tablecloth (I didn't want to do anything like that again) and moved closer to the spaghetti-victim, trying to offer more apologies.

Except before I could get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, the door of the kitchen banged open, and out flew Mr. Button-Bottom. His face was beat red, his fists clenched, and… I'm dead. That's it, I'm dead. I didn't even have enough time to process anything as I backed up into the table.

And the wine fell. I dove, and my hand brushed the neck of the bottle. But it was too late. It crashed to the ground, shattering, and the whole underside of the table flooded with red wine.

When I turned back around to face my audience, I gulped. The lady with spaghetti, her table buddies, and worse, Mr. Button-Bottom were glaring at me. In the background I could see Benji staring wide-eyed at me, as well as Goldie, who hid her face in her hands.

"Babbo, you, me, office. _NOW!"_

.

An hour after, I was in my apartment. My ears were singing from Mr. Button-Bottom's earlier screaming.

At the counter in my kitchen, I waited for Mom to pick up the phone. The ringing on the other end continued, and with each ring I cinched more of my sweater into my fist. My burning forehead pressed against the cool countertop; my heart thumped noisily in my ears. I tried to reason with myself. ' _Maybe I should hang up. It has to be late where they are. I don't want to wake Mom and Dad up… or Artur, for that matter.'_ My finger was close to pressing the 'end call' button thanks to the motivating thoughts, but before I could, the ringing stopped.

My spirits lifted – I was going to _voice mail_ – but everything stopped when I heard, "Poof, sweetie!" I wanted to hang up. Even before she picked up, all my gathered courage drained out of me. How could I explain I lost my job to Mom?

I choked out something like a greeting. I'm sure it was gibberish though. Mom ignored it, but unfortunately went straight-in for the kill. "Did you send in your resume for busboy yet?"

I had to get this over with. "…Yeah."

"Oh, good! Did you get the job? Tell me all about it!"

"I was-" My voice was barely over a whisper, "- _fired_ , Mom."

She paused. "…Sorry, dear, could you repeat that?"

 _No,_ not again. I took a deep breath. "I was… fired."

"Fired? What happened?"

"I-I…" My voice broke and I swallowed thickly. "…Messed up…it's as simple as that."

"Oh, sweetie…" She probably could hear the hitch in my breathing (I was beyond humiliated) because her tone became sympathetic. Even so, I knew she had to be disappointed. "Don't beat yourself up."

"Mom, I flipped over and fell on a table, threw spaghetti on an actress,"—as I later found out—"and broke a bottle of expensive wine." I'm surprised I didn't get sued.

Mom sent silent on the other end. I could hear faint crinkles over the line as she took deep breaths. "Well, then it was bad."

"Yeah," I said. "I guess at breakfast, someone should've asked, ' _what possibly could go wrong?'"_

Because that night, a lot of wrongs happened.

º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤øº¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤øº¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸

 **Hoochie Mama –** _ **"**_ _These women were not considered morally upright in the general public, so calling a woman a hootchie cooch was calling her a tramp, especially if dressed in a way that is meant to be provocative and showy."_ ~R, Marion. _"Hoochie Mama."_ Urban Dictionary, 21 Oct. 2007. Web.

**I hope to get another chapter done before the summer is over. Chapters will not take as long as this one did, hopefully.**

**I'm planning to focus on my other projects for a short while. Updates should resume in the middle of August.**

**Please don't forget to review! They're my inspiration. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I love you guys.**


	5. Failing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus! School and a lot of other things have been happening this year, so I've been pretty busy. Nonetheless, here's chapter five!  
> A forewarning, this chapter hasn't been edited by any beta. Any overlooked errors I will fix.

It was big news tonight,  _"Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma Assaults Actress!"_

After my phone call with Mom, I instantly got a call from Goldie telling me to turn on Fairy News Network, and when I did, the fuming face of that actress I threw spaghetti at was there, right beside Fairy Hart.

My heart stopped. Dial tone beeped in the background, but I hardly noticed. I turned up the volume on my television, and tuned in to what was being said.

"Now Amelia, can you tell everyone what happened tonight?" Fairy Hart asked, holding out her microphone to Amelia. They were standing outside of Planet Fairy World, surrounded by the pooferazi, as camera flashes illuminated their faces (of course the pooferazi were eating this up.)

"Yeah, you know Fairy World's beloved Poof? The one everyone claims can do no wrong and is plain out innocent?" Amelia asked the audience. I imagined everyone watching this news story nodding their heads. "Well, your beloved Poof not only assaulted me, but broke a bottle of wine worth his whole entire existence!"

Fairy Hart interest was piqued. "Why did he assault you?"

"You know how it is, he thinks he's better," Amelia stated.

I stood from the coach abruptly, a cold wash of horror flowing through me. "I don't think I'm better! I've never felt that way!" I never  _wanted_  to be better than others. I just wanted to be  _normal!_

Amelia continued, and I so much wanted to just poof down there and explain myself. "He has to ruin the reputations of those he thinks are competition."

Was anyone seriously believing this garbage?! She was lying!

Fairy Hart of course was more than happy to exploit it, make it seem like the truth. That's what all reporters were good for, feeding lies to the public. "How horrible!" she exclaimed. "We heard from other diners he threw dishes and a plate of spaghetti at you, is this true?"

"Yes," Amelia confirmed, glaring hatefully at the cameras. I felt those glaring eyes on me, as if she were staring directly at me again like she did in the restaurant. "He tried playing it off as an accident at first, but then went and pushed a bottle of wine off our table."

Someone I didn't know popped up between Fairy Hart and Amelia, saying, "It's true, Poof did! I saw the whole thing!"

Fairy Hart pushed the fairy away, still smiling, like a satisfied cat after catching a mouse. "Thank you Amelia for that news flash! We now are going to interview the boss of Planet Fairy World, Mr. Button-Bottom, to see what he says about the situation that occurred tonight inside his restaurant."

The camera panned to left, and Amelia's scowling face was then replaced by Mr. Button-Bottom. He was smoking yet another cigar with his manager standing behind emotionlessly.

Fairy Hart thrust the microphone into the gangster's face. "Mr. Button-Bottom, please tell us, why would you hire someone like Poof in the first place?"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. Mr. Button-Bottom not even an hour ago was screaming at the top of his lungs at me, and then had security toss me out. If there is anyone who's absolutely livid towards me over tonight's fiasco, it would be him. "Why did everything tonight have to go downhill?" I asked out loud to myself.

Mr. Button-Bottom eyed the microphone, clearly irritated at the invasion of his personal space, and pushed it away a little so it wasn't right in his face. "Look, Fairy Hart, am I right?" His accent from earlier had lessened, and was easier to understand.

Fairy Hart nodded. "Yes I am." She flashed the camera another smile.

Mr. Button-Bottom's eyebrow ticked, and he blew out of a puff of smoke. "Look, all I'm gonna say on t'matter is that Poof is no renaissance character, ya hear me? Not good at everythin', and he messed up. But don't all great people do?" The sudden turn from being downright hateful of me to paying me compliments – no not even that, sounding like he was  _defending me_  – had me freezing. "For example the April Fool, he had a prank that went too far, remember, back in '06? No one blamed 'im for it, and this case should be no different. Spilling spaghetti on that actress and shoving wine off the table was an accident. It was no publicity stunt, as that actress claimed." He glared at someone off camera; probably the actress, if the indignant, "hey!" was anything to go by.

"How we can we be sure you are not covering for him?" Fairy Hart asked suspiciously.

"Ye can't, miss, I was a bystander t'all of it," Mr. Button-Bottom admitted. "But ya know my recommendation to ya'll watchin'?" He asked, looking at the camera, and I found myself leaning forward. "Ya just have to trust Poof. That fairy would do none of this, not on purpose."

Fairy Hart thanked Mr. Button-Bottom for the interview, and then turned towards the camera. "There you have it folks – two sides of the same story. The question is, is the Poof we have known and loved not the good Samaritan we all thought him to be? Let us have Bob Glimmer give his personal interpretation on the incident. To you Bob."

Suddenly Bob Glimmer showed up on screen, inside the newss studio. "Thank you Hart. Now to most of those watching, we know—"

The sound of knocking drew my attention, and it took a great deal of determination to take my eyes off the television.

Ice pumped through my veins, nausea causing my insides to clench. "Oh no…" I whispered. Who was it? Was it the pooferazi, Fairy Hart, or Amelia? Only my family and friends should know where I live. Did I get tracked down again? Would I have to move once more? I thought about all my escape routes. There was my bedroom window-

"Hey, open up! It's Goldie!" All the tension in my shoulders lessened at the familiar voice. More knocking, and quickly I zipped over to the door and opened it. Goldie stood outside, still in her restaurant uniform, looking concerned.

"Goldie," I breathed.

Goldie frowned. "Ah took it yo' saw th' news." I mutely nodded, and moved out of the way to let her inside, shutting and locking the door after her.

I followed Goldie into my living room, and watched as she gave the television a hateful glare before turning it off with a wave of her wand.

Silence. I tried to think of something, but nothing really came. Nothing I could force out, anyway.

Goldie broke the silence after a while. "Ah's so'ry, Poof," she apologized, looking guilty and  _sad_ , like this was all her fault.

"You didn't spill that spaghetti or wine," I pointed out, but Goldie's expression didn't change.

"Ah c'd've done sumpin." She flopped back on the couch, and patted the spot next to her. "C'mon, sit."

I did so without question, and stared at the black television screen. Remembering all that I've watched earlier, I dropped my gaze to the floor. "Hey Goldie."

"Yeah?" Goldie asked, looking over at me. She looked ragged, blonde hair falling out of its usual pony tail and face red from nerves. I probably looked the same.

"Do you think I'm selfish?" I mentally traced each stain in my carpet – anything to avoid her stare.

"Whuffo' does yo' ax thet?"

"Amelia said I thought I was better than everyone… Is that true?"

Goldie touched my shoulder lightly. "We is all se'fish sometimes Poof," she reminded me, but continued, ""an' no – eff'n ah were t'describe yo' in one wo'd, se'fless'd be it."

"Why?" Selfless was the exact opposite of selfish, and I definitely was not selfless.

Goldie was silent for a moment, but her grip on my shoulder tightened. "Yo've always been aginst so much attention. All th' times when we were together an' Fairy News Network o' th' pooferazi went after us, or even the fans too, yo've always defended me." She smiled. "Yo' he'ped Foop."

"You know about that?" I asked, looking up with surprise. Had Foop told her about it?

"Please, Poof." Goldie gave me an unimpressed look. "When was th' last time yo've watched Fairy News Network? Th' incident was on thar."

' _Of course it was,'_  I thought grimly.

"Let me guess, Foop supposedly attacked the manager, the manager was protecting himself, and Poof the good fairy that he is helped the manager kick Foop out?"

"Yo' actually ninja kicked Foop out th' dores yo'seff."

A giggle bubbled up from my throat. I covered my mouth, trying to hide it, but Goldie's laughs only made it worse, and suddenly we both couldn't stop laughing. Stress from school, today, and my worries about the future seemed to flow out. My eyes burned and my chest ached, but it was welcomed. Anything was better than feeling hopeless.

When we finally calmed down, Goldie's arms encircled my shoulders and drew me close. "Everythin' will be fine, Poof," she reassured, combing her fingers through my hair. "Ya just git to keep on believin'."

.

After the job incident, I had hid out in my apartment, only leaving to go somewhere with Goldie, until things cooled down. Eventually everything would become yesterday's news, and this situation was no different. So when I finally started going out regularly again after a week in hiding, I had only been approached by a few fairies on the subject of the restaurant. Nothing bad though, just questions on whether Mr. Button-Bottom was right in saying that it was accident. And of course, I said it was. My answer was always met with an "I knew it" from the fairies.

It made me smile.

.

Not surprisingly, as soon as Valentine's Break was over and I had to start classes again, I felt terrible once more. It seemed with the fifty weeks coming up in Fairy Economics, everything was being thrown at me. Nonstop projects and homework were assigned, and then job hunting outside of all that had me passing out every night. I felt only the slightest refreshed in the morning, and weekends barely did anything either.

Today was no different. I had my head down on my desk while waiting inside the lecture hall. Other early birds were milling about, whispering to each other or reading; some even tried talking to me, but when I said nothing, they gave up and flew away.

Really, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. My alarm clock woke me up at five in the morning (yeah five, although I thought I had set it for seven the night before…) so I ended up here earlier than usual. So to say I was in a bad mood was an understatement. And it would seem like others were noticing too, or felt some sort of doom-like aura around me, because no one would even step foot within my vicinity.

God, what I would do to be sleeping right now.

I could close my eyes and take a little snooze – the idea was appealing, and I felt my eyelids droop. Yeah, sleep sounded  _really_  nice.

I don't know how long I laid there, head buried in my arms; noises around the room would go silent, then pick up again, as I slipped in and out of sleep.

So when someone tapped my shoulder, I gave a start.

" _What?"_  I practically growled. When I looked, the first thing I saw were shoes. They were black flats, shiny and perfect and pointed in my direction. The second thing I saw when I looked further up, was a frowning face.

_Ms. Dresser._

Immediately I sat up, ignoring the harsh light in my eyes and wiped at the dried spit on the side of my mouth.

Ms. Dresser's frown deepened. "It's nice to see you joining us, Mr. Poof," she said. I heard giggles around me. There were a lot of fairies in the room now – _just how long had I been sleep for?_

I rubbed the back of my head. Seriously, why did I always get into these situations? "Uh, sorry Ms. Dresser," I apologized, glancing between her and my desk. There was a small puddle of drool there, which I hastily wiped away with my sleeve. "I wanted to get a snooze in before class."

"I see that." She stared right at me for a second (did I have something on my face? I probably had bags under my eyes…) before turning around and flying back to the front of the classroom. Over her shoulder, she called, "Don't let it happen again."

I was quick to nod in agreement.

With my snoozing situation closed, Ms. Dresser began class.

"Quiet down everyone," Ms. Dresser ordered. Fairies were still giggling at me, but stopped when Ms. Dresser introduced the lesson, "Today we are going to go over wand maintenance."

Unlike the first time I resisted it, this time I face-planted my desk. I should've known out of all days to have a  _(more)_  boring lesson would fall on the exact day I didn't get enough sleep. Was Ms. Dresser trying to get me in trouble? I would fall asleep at this rate!

And really, wand maintenance goes all the way back to high school! Why did we have to go over it again?

Others' reactions were like mine. There was groaning and face-planting desks, and even the goody-two-shoes looked like they were internally screaming their protests. And Foop, in the same place as he always was in the back (I'm surprised he didn't play a trick on me when I was asleep – one time in Spellementary, he drew on my face with permanent marker during naptime), didn't look the least bit pleased either. He was frowning and glaring over at the teacher, and when he poofed up a notepad and pencil, he set them down with more force than necessary.

I looked away, shaking my head. Gah, I was watching him again! Could I be any creepier?

I face-planted my desk again as punishment.

Ms. Dresser started the lesson soon after. The lights had been dimmed because she was showing a power point on the promethean board.

In order to stay awake, I doodled stuff on my notebook paper, mostly stuff with Luke Skyshooter and Yoni fighting off Dark Thrash – it was really reminiscent of Foop and I's fight when we were younger.

Speaking of which, when I looked over the doodles again, it really just looked like me, Benji and Foop in cosplay. I laughed to myself. It'd be cool if we could all dress up as them and go down to Earth for a Space Wars convention.

I continued to doodle throughout the lesson. I sometimes glanced back at Foop for reference, which he thankfully didn't notice. He would probably start a fight with me if he saw me staring at him. (Or if he figured out why I was staring!) I also tried envisioning Benji dressed up as Yoni. Man, he'd look so cool. And he was cool already, so he would be even cool- _er._

By the time we broke for lunch, my wrist was protesting me doodling so much. I rubbed it, wincing as I did, and almost didn't notice Foop pass by. But when I did notice (and to my horror), he was looking down at my paper.

"Do you mind?!" I quickly flung myself over it, face red, and eyes glaring at him.

He glared back at me. "The same should be said about you." I felt my cheeks burn worse than before. So he did notice me staring!

"I just needed references!" I excused.

"Hm," was all I got, and he continued on to Ms. Dresser to talk to her.

I breathed out and relaxed when he left, and was quick to fold up my drawings and place them in my pocket. There was no way was he going to see them again!

.

"Mr. Poof."

When class was finally over with, I was just as eager as anyone else would be to leave after spending four hours on a lesson about wand maintenance and keeping your wand safe. (I think I learned way too much about that latter; to have that many things go wrong with your wand is pretty singular. Who ever heard of mutant flies from Mars taking wands?) However, once again, my exit was ruined by Ms. Dresser.

I paused in shoving crumbled notebook papers into my drawstring bag (we had a lot of packets today.) "Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you for a minute about your grades." She stood by my desk eyeing my bag and papers, looking like she wanted to comment on my organization. She kept her lips sealed though.

"O-oh…" yeah,  _oh_  "… _okay_." I finished putting away my stuff and closed my bag.

Once she had my full attention, she took a folder out from under her arm and placed it on my desk. "You are failing." ….Wow, cut to the chase much? Though I can't say I was surprised.

In support of what she said, she pulled out a paper from the folder, which showed all my grades from the past ten weeks. It definitely didn't look too pretty.

' _Remember what Goldie used to say to you,'_  I tried to reassure myself.  _'Everything will come out fine in the end; I just have to keep believing in myself.'_

"Your overall grade point average is  _1.0_. This would be considered passing somewhat – and I do stress  _somewhat_  – in standard schooling. However, in Fairy Economics it's required that you have a grade point average of 2.7 or higher to take the final exam. So, as you can see, this grade is problematic."

I let her words sink in with a growing horror. I have to take the final exam! It's my last shot in becoming a fairy godparent; if I can't take it or even pass it…I don't even want to  _consider_  Fairy Academy. Desperately, I asked, "What can I do to raise my grade?"

There are only twenty weeks left of Fairy Economics. I'm sure if I could fail within ten weeks, I could raise my grade within the time left.

"Well of course, to study more is my suggestion." Ms. Dresser sighed. "However, you do not seem to be the type that can sit down and do so." She had me there. I and studying never went well together – I always felt like when I tried, everything went through one ear and out the other.

"So...what are you suggesting?" I raised an eyebrow.

"It's studying still, but"—oh no, buts weren't good, especially coming from her- "perhaps a partner to do it with would be best for you." What she said made me perk up. "Would you like me to talk to someone in class and see if they would work with you?"

I'm sure she wouldn't have a hard time finding someone to volunteer. However... "No thanks, I actually know someone who can help." And who would be better choice than Goldie? She already passed the final exam in High School, and I'm sure she would agree to help me.

"Oh?" She sounded suspicious, like I wasn't telling the truth.

"Yeah, a close friend. She already passed the exam," I informed.

Ms. Dresser eyed me pensively, trying to detect the lie. But there was nothing, I was being serious. She must've noticed because she gathered my folder into her arms again. "Well, let's hope she is effective then," she said, and with that settled, she poofed back to her front desk.

I took is as my pass to leave, and quickly did so.

I had someone to visit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Dark Thrash is a parody of Darth Maul, who Foop dressed up as in one episode of FOP.

**Author's Note:**

> The class Poof and Foop are taking is similar to a community college for fairies. They can choose to take the class first before going to Fairy Academy or pass the final test with a high grade and become a Fairy God Parent that way (that is what Goldie did. You can take the test before graduating from high school – when Poof took it, he failed). If you don't pass the final test, you will most likely be sent to Fairy Academy. It's just a twist, but hopefully people don't get too irritated by it.
> 
> Please, if you favorite or watch this story, review with feedback on what you think of this chapter so far! I worked hard on it.


End file.
